


Universal Misadventures

by NutheadGee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dominant Kylo Ren, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Glove Kink, Humour, I Donno How To Tag, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Inappropriate use of a Lightsaber, Orgasm Denial, Romance, Sarcasm, Slow Build, Smut, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 57,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NutheadGee/pseuds/NutheadGee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You swore revenge on the Resistance after they murdered your parents, and annihilated your village, so you signed up to be a TIE Fighter pilot, your loyalty only to the First Order. Kylo Ren, however decided he was going to promptly and unceremoniously whisk into your life and disrupt it. You didn't like disruptions, but some disruptions you didn't mind at all, like the thoughts of what he looked like under all those layers of black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The TIE Fighter Pilot Life

_You stared in absolute terror at the smouldering remains in front of you._

_The ashes were still hot, though even if they were cool enough to walk over, you doubted there might have been anything even remotely salvageable. You stated at the bandana that was still burning. Your mama had that bandana on three hours ago, before she sent you to hide in the forest. You saw your papa’s ring, settling gently on top of the bandana, as if it had been placed there before what was formerly your home was blazed to the ground._

_Your 13 year old mind was frantic, trying to figure out if your parents knew. Your home planet, Garel, was a known Galactic planet, so it was obvious that it would be targeted. You and your parents, however lived in a humble rural part of the planet._ Why were you attacked?

_None of you had anything to do with this, yet you were attacked, your home, your village,_ the entire village _destroyed. Looted, burned to the ground. You were probably the only survivor of this massacre. What were you going to do?_ What were you going to do?

_Terror and sadness soon dissipated, and rage and determination took over. You would find the people who did this to your planet, your village,_ your parents. _You would find them and you would make them pay, They would pay_ dearly. _You would see to it._

…

_The officer looked at you, your clothes tattered, your face, hair and hands filthy, your feet cracked and bleeding for walking for hours looking for the first post to register your services. You were a short, chubby thirteen year old girl, asking to join the First Order._

_He was pale, tall, slender. He didn’t look like a fighter, but you knew, with his perfectly neat and clean uniform, his hair neatly parted to the side and_ gorgeous _eyebrows that this man was intelligent, with an ambition. This was no man you could mess with._

_“You want to join the First Order, as a TIE fighter pilot, no less,” he asked matter-of-fact._

_You didn’t say anything, just looked back at him. The tear and mucous streaks you were sure were visible on your face had dried up, but you didn’t care. You were numb, empty. All the rage from before spent, and nothingness remained. The only thing you had left was purpose. Purpose for revenge._

_“What makes you think you can be a TIE fighter pilot? The fail rate is exceptionally high, about 90%. All I have from you is your name, your age and the name of your village-“_

_“Former village,” you interrupted, your voice as blank as your face._

_He looked at you, but this time there was something different about his gaze. A slight spark of interest. “-sorry,_ former _village. That’s not a lot of information to go by, I’m afraid,”_

_You still eyeballed him, not moving an inch._

_“You however seem to have a purpose. A drive, if you may. You have nothing more to lose, and you’re on a mission to find the person or people who made you what you have now become and_ annihilate _them. Am I wrong?”_

_You still said nothing, your silence and eye contact giving him all the answers he was seeking._

_He smirked. “Go to that table on my right. Give them your details and tell them I said you are immediately to be registered into the fighter pilot programme_ without _reconditioning. Tell them to take you to the dispensary and patch you up.” He leaned in at you, looking you dead in the eye._

_You never moved even a hair. “My name is Hux. Captain Hux. Welcome to the First Order.”_

…

You sighed.

All the pilots in the room looked from you to the captain, knowing what was coming next.

“What is your problem?” Captain Eric snarled at you. He always seemed not to like you for some reason. It bothered you a lot less than it should have, to be honest, but he couldn’t do jack shit because you were a goddamned good pilot, arguably the best in the First Order. He knew that, and it pissed him the fuck off.

So he took advantage of the fact that he was your captain, your immediate superior to demean you and belittle you whenever he could, devaluing all your accomplishments with airy dismissals and cutting you off in the middle of making valid points. He never listened to your recommendations (especially when they were right) and blamed every and all fuck up on you.

None of it ever worked. Sometimes he’d get in trouble for not doing what was supposed to be done because you said it, but he took the punishments in a hilariously sad attempt to spite you. There was also the tiny fact that your accomplishments spoke for themselves. No one knew how to manoeuvre and control a TIE fighter like you did, which is why you were the _only_ pilot General Hux allowed to have your own TIE fighter, and you loved it, _loved it._ You loved that aircraft more than you loved half you colleagues.

You definitely loved it more than your _beloved_ captain.

“This strategy isn’t gonna work. Resistance pilots carry out their own recon flights around this section of the Outer Rim, especially Adari. They are looking for the same minerals we are straight from the source, since they can’t afford it using normal means. Flying straight at them is sheer suicide-“

“Then what do you suggest, oh strategic genius?” Eric interrupted, his voice condescending.

You felt your jaw tense, running out of what little patience you had left. “I suggest that we liaise with our connections in and around Adari and her neighbouring planets. Talk to the General and the Commander. Ask them to give you this information so that we can use it to schedule our own recon flights. That we’ll be able to keep an eye out for them and gather any intel we need for protecting our interests.”

Judging from the looks on their faces, the other pilots seemed to agree. Not your Captain, of course.

He snorted. “You actually think they’ll listen to that bullshit? Nah. I’m captain. I say me and two other pilots go out and check them out. If they’re there we’ll engage. If not we’ll come back with info. It’s gonna be easy.”

You raised an eyebrow. Apparently foresight wasn’t this guy’s strongest suite. Time to test it.

“Excuse me Captain, but may I please know what information exactly you expect to gain from this alleged recon you want to do?”

“That the Resistance is still orbiting around Adari.”

Yep, this bloke didn’t even know of a concept called “forethought”, let alone spell the word. You only just refrained from sighing. You contemplated arguing that we did, in fact, already know that the Resistance was orbiting in and around Adari, and you had an idea of what they were looking for. The information you needed was the _frequency_ of these orbits.

He wouldn’t listen though. You still had that report he was making you do, so that he could claim the credit and receive praises from the General and the Commander again.

“Of course, Captain. Whatever you say,” you acquiesced, hoping you didn’t sound as sarcastic as you felt.

He grinned. Apparently sarcasm wasn’t this guy’s strongest point either. You wondered how many folds he had in his brain to be able to have such little comprehension of basic human interactions.

You grabbed your helmet and walked back to the common room in the hangar. That report was due in three days, and if you didn’t have it ready then the whole squadron would suffer for it. You didn’t consider said squadron your best friends, but they’d suffered way too much to get to where they were to deal with more bullshit from the Captain than was due to them.

One thing was certain, however. Whatever was going to go down in the next seventy two or so hours, it wasn’t going to be good. That’s what your instinct communicated to you, and as a TIE fighter, you learned a long time ago, the hard way, that you should always trust your instinct. _Always._

Your datapad beeped. You took it out and stopped in your tracks. You blinked, then swallowed and breathed in. A shaky finger pressed the green button next to the black helmet shot that was the picture of the caller.

“Hello?”

“Officer Cassidy, report to the Bridge with your Captain immediately,” Commander Kylo Ren ordered. He promptly hung up, not even waiting for a response on your end.

Oh boy.


	2. Let the thirst begin.

This situation you were currently in would be infinitely more amusing had the crowd been different, but it wasn’t. It was tense at best.

You, General Hux, Commander Kylo Ren, Lieutenant Mitaka, Captain Phasma and Captain Eric were standing around the main control console on the bridge of the _Finalizer._ Beloved Captain had just explained his plan to the General and the Commander, and you couldn’t quite tell whether or not they were impressed or disappointed. General Hux had his normal stern frown and Commander Ren just had his mask.  He wasn’t periodically clenching or unclenching his gloved fists though, so you considered that as a bonus.

He also hadn’t reached for his lightsabre. Yet.

You reached into your pocket and removed your comb. It was an afro comb with a fist for a handle. You removed it and stuck it in the middle of your hair, a habit you cultivated when you were nervous and you _had to do something_. Captain Phasma sighed through her helmet, though that sigh sounded very suspiciously like a quiet laugh. Captain Eric rolled his eyes and Lieutenant Mitaka looked at you incredulously, with your big afro with a comb sticking out of it.

“Quite the look you have there, officer,” General Hux commented.

You smiled slightly and shrugged. “The hair is a result of my genes. The comb is the only memory I have of my parents.”

Silence.

“So tell us again, Captain,” Commander Ren said, his synthesised voice reminding us the purpose of this little meeting we were having. “Why you think this idea is the best you can come up with.”

“Well sir, we can get a lot of information-“

“We already have the information you are going after. Is there no other reason?” General Hux interrupted.

The Commander started pacing behind all of you who were standing around the console. Lieutenant Mitaka gripped the papers he was holding as if his life depended on it. Captain Phasma was standing straight as a rod. General Hux moved his hands to his back, neatly folding them.  The General and the Commander were getting impatient. This was getting bad. It definitely wasn’t going to end well.

“I, um, th-the recon, the recon will do u-us good, s-sir. We can, we can find o-out more about the R-resistance pilot r-runs in the area, a-and-“

“And then you’ll promptly get shot down and killed when they see you,” Commander Ren finished, stopping right behind him. He gulped. “Then we’ll have to send another squadron down there to clean up that mess, salvage anything that may be usable.”

He paced another few strides. Your breathing became a bit more difficult to regulate. “An unnecessary waste of time and resources. All this because your obsolete brain can’t think of better, more efficient, more strategic methods of getting crucial information from the enemy.”

You wanted to feel sorry for him. You could have if he was a half way decent human being, but he wasn’t. The reason you weren’t feeling sorry for him, however was that there was a warm pool beginning to settle at the pit of your stomach. This pool was inducing the wrong kind of emotion at the wrong goddamn time.

You had had about two interactions with Commander Ren up until this point. He was intimidating. _Very_ intimidating. He was known all over the galaxy as the “Jedi Killer”, having infamously murdered his fellow students in the Jedi Academy his uncle had set up to train a new generation of Jedi. He was tall, with broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms. He was dressed in black from head to toe, the only differences being the chrome lines on his helmet around his visor and his lightsabre hilt on his belt.  Black was supposed to produce a slimming effect, but even then, even someone with the intellectual capacity of your Captain could tell the Commander was a big guy.

However, he was most feared for his ability to use the force and his dangerous temper. Many at times had your squadron been warned from walking across certain corridors or to certain rooms in the ship because the Commander decided he needed to see if his lightsabre was still functioning as intended. You had seen him literally force-choke subordinates that were bringing him bad news or being incompetent from feet away.

His temper was rumoured to be a Skywalker thing, something his grandfather, his mother and his uncle all had. You very much doubted if they needlessly destroyed expensive equipment when they were mad, but who were you to judge? The Skywalkers were known for both their immense power due to their strong connection with the force and their extremely melodramatic tendencies. You honestly wouldn’t put it past them. Advantages and disadvantages to everything and what not.

Even with all this, Commander Kylo Ren was the embodiment of authority, power and domination. It was in his stride, in his stature, in his body language. His entire being just exuded such power and authority, and with the addition of the force he could dominate.

These traits made him very…alluring. There was something darkly erotic and dangerously sexy about the Commander. You always wondered what he looked like behind that mask and below all those layers of black he wore. It was common sense that it was wrong to fraternise with your superiors or you colleagues, particularly if said superiors or colleagues could decimate you within seconds, but you’d definitely be lying to yourself if you claimed you had never had any inappropriate thoughts involving your commander.

“We have allies at Adari. We have been receiving consistent flows of information from them concerning the movements of the Resistance. What we don’t have is the information of their movement in and around the airspace and the neighbouring planets. If we liaise with them, they can give us exact specifications of when Resistance personnel arrive and leave the planet, so we can schedule our reconnaissance flights around those particular times. Adari need our protection, so they can’t risk giving us inaccurate information,” Lieutenant Mitaka suggested, in an effort to quell the tension surrounding us.

Oh, what a wonderful suggestion. It made sense, and it had some strategy to it. You wondered where you’d heard it before.

General Hux, after throwing a disapproving look at Commander Ren, turned back to Captain Eric. “You want to tell me, Captain that even you couldn’t think about something like that?” he asked smoothly?

Captain Eric was nervous. There was a thin film of sweat on his forehead. It was a rather hilarious sight in your opinion. You’d have internally laughed at him if you weren’t busy trying to deal with your thirst for your Commander.

“I-I never thought of it, um, in th-that way, sir.”

“Did you consider that perhaps your pilots might have had such an idea? Did you ever pitch it to them so that they could give you suggestions? Or did you think their input was unnecessary?”

Captain Eric had gone form nervous to downright terrified. He looked from Lieutenant Mitaka to Captain Phasma for help. He even looked at _you_ in a last bid of desperation for help, to get him out of the spot that he had been put in.

General Hux wasn’t punishing him, he was _humiliating_ him. To make matters worse, he was humiliating him in front of you, a subordinate he thoroughly disliked.

“Why should he, General? They are his _subordinates._ Do you think their input is in any way useful? His main aim is to impress you with his brilliance. Fuck what all the pilots said. What is they said something that you’d actually agree to then? That would take away from all his glory, wouldn’t it?” Commander Ren quipped, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

That warm pooling at the base of your tummy was beginning to turn into hot liquid which was very quickly manifesting itself in your vagina. You stood more at attention, in a desperate attempt to get your loins, currently on fire, in a semblance of control. Why was he so hot when he _swore,_ goddamit.

Lieutenant Mitaka pressed his lips together, trying to keep his laugh in his chest where it belonged.

General Hux smirked. “Ah. Of course. How ludicrous of me. My apologies for underestimating you intellectual capacities, _Captain.”_

Captain Phasma cleared her throat loudly.

Captain Eric’s hands were shaking. “I-I still think m-my id-hggggnnn…”

He stopped speaking mid-sentence. Commander Ren had raised his arm towards Captain Eric, who was floating in mid-air, his legs frantically kicking, arms wildly waving, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head, a small line of drool on the left corner of his mouth. He was gasping and chocking, and it was then that you realised that he was being force-choked by the Commander.

It was, quite honestly, the _sexiest_ thing you had ever seen one man do. You swallowed heavily. Your panties at this time were _soaking wet._

Commander Ren dragged Captain Eric toward him, pulling him with the force like an invisible string towards his person, with his large hand capturing the Captain on the neck. Captain Eric’s previously flailing arms weakly gripped at the Commander’s wrist.

“Let me make something very clear to you, _Captain,”_ the Commander sneered, infamous temper coming through. “If you fail to come back with the times that Resistance scum arrive and leave from that planet and the areas neighbouring it, I will kill you myself the moment you step on this ship. Do you understand?”

All Captain Eric could manage was a terrified gargle. You couldn’t blame him, really. He was being choked after all.

“And this is a solo mission. If I hear you’ve taken any other of my pilots, I will order you gunned down to completely rid the galaxy of your incompetence. I hope I have made myself clear.”

He attempted to nod. All he could manage was a choked gasp.

Suddenly, the Commander let go, and Captain Eric fell to the ground in a heap. He was coughing, hacking and gasping, trying to gulp in precious oxygen that the Commander had temporarily denied him. The Commander in question, in a flagrant show of disrespect, had turned his back to him, looking at something on an LCD screen in front of him.

“Get out my sight,” he snarled, and Captain Eric only just managed to scramble to his feet and walk away as quickly as his dignity, or whatever that was left of it, if any, could allow him.

“Well then,” General Hux said coolly, as if _someone had just not been force-choked in his presence,_ “I suppose it is time Commander Ren and I dismissed the rest of you. Report back here in an hour, so that we can see the… _success_ of this mission.”

Yourself, Lieutenant Mitaka and Captain Phasma respectfully left. You desperately needed to change, not to mention that goddamned report was still waiting for you to complete it.

…

After a much needed rinse of your loins and change of underwear, you settled down to your report. You were just about to complete it when you got a message from General Hux ordering you back on the bridge. You looked at the report and sighed, regretting spending more time thinking how the Commander’s hands would feel between your legs than actually drafting the bloody thins, and left for the bridge.

You stepped in at the exact same time as Lieutenant Mitaka, to see Captain Eric’s ship on the large screen in front of you. The comms switch was off. Commander Ren was still pissed off at him, it seemed. You made a mental note to never piss this man off. You preferred your body in one piece, thank you very much.

You were watching the screen, and Captain Eric had just managed to turn a corner when he was shot down by an X-wing, the characteristic fighter jets of the Resistance. It seemed like he was hit by multiple shots, for there seemed to be no parts that emerged from the smoke. You swallowed. If you weren’t careful yourself, that was one of the ways you’d end.

At least it was a swift death.

Your analysis was right, for the first X-wing was joined by two more. Talk about overkill.

Well, Rest in peace Captain. You were sure he’d be missed.

“Hmmm,” Commander Ren hummed, seemingly unmoved by the Captain of the TIE Fighter pilots being blasted to smithereens. “I suppose that takes care of that.”

“He lasted a lot longer than I thought he would, honestly,” General Hux added, tone bored as he dragged his finger over his data pad. Lieutenant Mitaka looked around, awkward. Captain Phasma looked from the General to the Commander, as if awaiting an order.

You blinked in disbelief. “Excuse me, everyone, I’m very sorry to interrupt, but Captain Eric has just been killed by Resistance pilots. I think that warrants a little bit more of a reaction,” You said slowly, looking at them continuing on with their lives _as if the Captain of the TIE fighter pilots didn’t have parts of him in about 3 different planets._

Commander Ren looked at you, right at you. “Tell me, Officer Cassidy,” he murmured, the synthesiser in his voice making his voice sound ridiculously low. “Have you ever heard the law of survival of the fittest?”

You swallowed. “Yes sir. I have”.

“The weak will die and the strong will survive and adapt. Eric was an imbecile. An idiot. A dunderhead with not an iota of decent brain matter. He could barely see beyond his nose. I personally think he died a very merciful death, because apparently General Hux claims my ways of getting rid of vermin such as him is savage.”

Did this man not realise that you didn’t have an infinite number of panties at your disposal?

Trying to control the arousal that was rapidly flooding your vagina again, you managed to generate enough brain power to ask a question. “Why did you promote him to Captain of the TIE fighters then?”

“Because then he’d most likely die faster, and sparing both the General and myself the indignity of doing it ourselves. Clean up tends to be a rather… _messy_ affair,” he said slowly, still looking a right at you.

From the corner of your eye you managed to see Lieutenant Mitaka gulp. Captain Phasma was busying herself with her data pad.

You nodded, something to keep you from thinking about how a man’s utter and complete disregard for human life could turn you on so much.

Commander Kylo Ren was brutal. He was ruthless. He tolerated no stupidity or incompetence. You had to be good at your job, you had no choice. You had to be _excellent and dedicated_ at what you did in the First Order. If not, he would orchestrate ways to get rid of you _without anyone ever knowing he had a hand in it._

You looked over at general Hux, who was smirking, and you understood. When you enlisted to join this organisation eight years ago he was but a Captain. Now he was the General, in charge of the entire First Order. He and the Commander never looked eye to eye on most things, but the one thing that was clear from here on was that neither of them tolerated bullshit.

“A promotion is in order, I believe,” General Hux said, looking at Lieutenant Mitaka. “Lieutenant, circulate the following information. We sadly bring news that Captain Eric’s ship was shot down during a reconnaissance mission. He will be replaced by Officer Cassidy, who is now the new Captain of the TIE fighter pilots. We are aware that she is, in our opinion, the best pilot in the organisation, and she is the best suited to take this job, going by her previous credentials and track record. Congratulations, Captain. Commander Ren and I are confident you won’t let us down.”

I swallowed, shaking both their firm handshakes. “I will do my best, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

You were going to be washing a lot of underwear in the near future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to get this out ASAP, because it was driving me insane. Updates won't be this quick in the future though, so don't be too excited.
> 
> Your comments fuel my passion for writing, so please feel free to tell me whether you liked this or not.
> 
> Thanks!


	3. Life's getting better

You were gritting your teeth so hard you were sure you’d lose some centimetres of enamel on them by the end of the day.

You were standing on the bridge of _The Finaliser_ with that goddamn blasted report, finally over. You had informed the General and the Commander that you had completed the report (which was about whether the TIE Fighter pilot programme needed more funds for training both pilots and engineers. You thought the programme was perfectly fine, but there should be a small amount of funds put aside _just in case_ it was necessary in the future. One was never too sure, particularly in times of war such as now), meaning they _knew_ you were going to be here to hand in aforementioned report and answer any enquiries they had.

Instead, you were standing before a very apologetic Lieutenant Mitaka, who was averaging about 4 apologies every ten minutes (It had been about half an hour. You were counting). It was pandemonium on the ship, and the General and Commander were nowhere to be seen. The Lieutenant most likely knew where they were or what they were doing but he had refused to tell you. You were 100% sure they weren’t with the Supreme Leader because they’d have circulated an announcement among all individuals ranked captain and above if that was the case. This most likely meant that the Commander had gone and fucked shit up somewhere and the General was cleaning up.

It was never a good day on the _Finaliser_ when Commander Ren fucked shit up and the General had to do clean up. It was doubly worse when no one knew what the fuck up and clean up was.

Suddenly you heard distinct boot steps, long and fast strides on the corridor that lead to the bridge. They then came into sight, both towering in height over everyone else around them as usual, Commander Ren with his robes swishing behind him and General Hux with his jacket over his shoulders. They both looked in your general direction and headed towards the consoles where you were standing. Both of them stood in front of you with Commander Ren gesturing with his gloved hand towards the report you were holding.

“General Hux informed me that you had a report for us?” There seemed to be something peculiar about his synthesised voice. It just didn’t sound as normal as it was on other days, weird as that sounded. He sounded _amused._

You nodded. “Please read it first, sir, then I’ll be available to answer any questions that you have,” I responded.

General Hux looked at you, trademark frown on his face. “Very well,” he said, flipping through the report. “You are dismissed. We’ll call for you when we’re done.”

Yep. There was definitely some fucking up and subsequent cleaning up that had happened.

Dammit.

…

This is most definitely _not_ how you expected this day to go.

One of your pilots was standing in front of you, blushing like a 12 year old confronting their crush for the first time, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. You, on the other hand, sighed, pressing the bridge of your nose with your forefinger and thumb to relieve the pressure that was subsequently building up there.

“You are _not. Fucking. Serious,”_ you growled, extremely irritated at what this pilot had the audacity to tell you.

You were really questioning why you accepted this position. Would the General and Commander accepted you declining your promotion?

“Can you, can you please do it, Captain?” he mumbled, the embarrassment pouring out of that statement.

You slammed your gloved palm on the desk in front of you, making everyone around you jump.

“You are telling me, _officer,_ that Commander Ren ordered you into his quarters yesterday evening _and_ this morning, demanded you suck his dick and then proceeded to fuck you in the ass and that you _consented_ and _enjoyed it_?” I repeated to him, incredulous disbelief dripping from every word.

You saw him wince at your blunt words, and then he nodded.

“And then you want me to give you three days off to see the counsellor about it because you’re _heterosexual_.”

Again, he nodded slowly.

“You also want me ask the Commander- _Commander Kylo Ren-_ to apologise to your fiancé for making you engage in a one-night-stand with him, effectively being unfaithful in your relationship, and you’re feeling guilty.”

He swallowed, and then nodded again.

“And this is because apparently she wouldn’t understand that no one ever says no to the Commander when he wants to fuck them.”

His feet drawing doodles on the tiled floor suddenly became a lot more interesting than the hem of his jersey.

“I…well, not exactly _apologise,_ just, um, tell her that, you know, he kinda, er, seduced me into his bed…?”

Your head hit the table in front of you with a dull thump on some papers you were looking at that the poor, _poor_ Lieutenant had sent you. “Is your fiancé even on the _Finaliser?”_ You grumbled, actually not believing what you were hearing with your own two ears.

“Well, no. She’s actually on Starkiller Base.”

“Does she work for the First Order?”

Silence. You looked up, and saw the pilot’s gorgeous blue eyes widening, understanding what you were getting to.

“Yeah,“ he breathed.

“Have you considered that she may also have had a taste of Commander Ren’s cock as well?” You asked, trying very hard not to smirk.

Looking at the bloke, you couldn’t blame the Commander for actually sleeping with him. He had dark brown hair, the colour of chestnut and bright blue yes. He had a clean-shaven face, and had boyish good looks. He was taller than most, and was lean as opposed to bulky. He was very pleasing to the senses, with having traditionally softer features, as opposed to the square cheekbones and scraggly beard you were used to seeing around other general officers of the First Order.

All things considered, he was a pretty attractive dude, and if there were consequences, you wouldn’t mind inviting him to your bed yourself.

Everyone in the First Order knew that Commander Ren was a notorious man-whore, sleeping with any human adult, regardless of race, gender or sexuality that had functioning genitals and the capability of consenting to sex. It was just one of those known secrets, and it was said he knew in advance who would grace his bed and when. No one ever dared say no to him, partly because people were curious to see what he looked like and partly because everyone was terrified of the consequences. No one wished to be sliced in half by his lightsabre because they refused to ride him.

The general consensus was:

  1. Commander Ren was a _very_ good-looking guy and
  2. He was a _very_ good lover.



Despite all this, there were still individuals like yourself that were still very curious and wanted to actually see for yourself what he looked like behind that helmet, what he sounded like, the man behind it all.

Even then, you didn’t think that _you_ would be having a hand, no matter how indirect, in his sexual escapades. As much you could understand where your pilot was coming from, you also didn’t want to come in between the Commander and his sex life. If even the bloody General had no power to tell him to stop fucking everyone, what leverage did you, a mere captain, have?

You sighed, for the umpteenth time that day. “I can’t guarantee it, but maybe I’ll talk to the Lieutenant or something, see when he can sneak it in. Just…try and…go on with your duties, okay?” I mumbled, continuing to read the documents aforementioned Lieutenant had sent me.

The pilot gulped, before turning around and shuffling away. You kind of felt sorry for him, but such were the risks of working in the First Order. Every day you woke up with the terror that your Commander, a powerful force user and hailing from one of the most powerful families in the galaxy, might decide to fuck you that day and there was almost nothing you could do about it.

Apparently the counsellors were some of the best money could buy, however, so at least there was that.

You were still working, preparing for your next recon flight, when your data pad beeped. Looking at it, you saw it was a message from General Hux, asking you to head to the bridge, fully geared, with another three competent pilots.

You were surprised. You had never received such a request before. You wondered what was going on.

…

You thanked your parents’ spirits for the strict administration of self-control they put into you when you were younger, because if you were a lesser person your jaw would hit the floor.

“Your report is very well written, quite comprehensive. It’s a welcome relief from the blabbering nonsense that we were subjected to by the former Captain. What was his name again?” General Hux stated, flipping through my report.

“Captain Eric,” I supplied, working very hard not to giggle.

“Yes. He was the one. Sometimes I really questions Ren’s decision-making skills. He tends to do some things just to prove a point, and sometimes he can be very petty,” the General continued, finally putting my report down, ignoring the glare that the Commander sent his way.

“We agree with your assessment Captain,” Commander Ren took over, speaking before the General, ensuring he got his own scathing glare as well. “Which is why you are going with the General and myself to Adari to talk to the leaders. We thing it would be a good idea for the leaders of the dominant clan to meet the head of the TIE Fighter pilots, the squad that will be protecting them from the airspace hard that that scum might pose to them. They are already aware that Captain Phasma has already spoken to them when she sent some of the Stormtroopers on the surface of the planet. We need to show them that they are making a good decision in trusting us to protect them, and the best way to do that is to show them the people that they are to report to when they need to.”

Cue, internal jaw drop.

Before you could even response, the General and Commander turned and begun walking towards the hangar. You almost had to trot to keep up with their long strides. “Are the other pilots in the hangar?” General Hux asked.

“Yes sir,” you responded, trying to catch your breath as you walked faster than normal to catch up with them. Why were they so _tall?_ “I told them to wait alongside their respective crafts and that we would be leaving soon.”

We arrived at the hangar, watching the pilots standing attention next to planes, together with the Stormtroopers standing around the Commander’s shuttle.

“Very well. Follow us onto the planet. We expect this to go well. If we succeed in this then we have access to the resources on Adari indefinitely,” the Commander said flatly, before turning and looking right at you.

Time literally stopped, and you drowned out everything else that was going on. The business of the hangar was reduced to background buzzing, the people nothing more than flashes and blurs when you felt his gaze, literally looking _through_ you from that mask. The intensity of his control, his authority, his _power_ was almost honed in on you, and you could feel it surrounding you, smothering you. His physical presence was intimidating and compelling that you could not help that look right back at him, giving him every ounce of concentration you could muster.

And it _aroused_ you. No other man had the potential to have such dominion over you, and just his gaze was enough to have hot lust drop straight from your chest into the pit of your stomach straight into your vagina.

“We have very high expectations of you, Captain,” he said, still looking at you, “and we expect you to meet every single one of them, perhaps even exceed them.”

You gulped, clenching your thighs together. There was no time to even change, and your panties were drenched. “Of course, Commander. I’m not in a position to fail,” you said, lust having a helping hand in the conviction that all the parties around could hear.

He looked at you for just about a second longer, before he disappeared into his ship with a swish of black robes, General Hux beside him and the Stormtroopers following behind them both.

You turned to your own ship, and you took two seconds to breath and calm yourself before allowing your hands to fluidly move around the switches to get your TIE fighter alive.

On the bright side, you knew what you’d be getting off to when you came back.

…

You had returned to the _Finaliser,_ gotten off your ship and headed back  straight to your quarters and flop yourself on the bed. It had been a long and exhausting, but very successful trip and subsequent meeting with the Adari leaders. They had taken a liking to you, asking questions of when they would be expecting patrols around the airspace and whether they’ll be seeing you. You had patiently and comprehensively answered every single question they asked you with everything you knew, and they seemed satisfied with your answers. The General and Commander never interrupted, and allowed you to prosper in your element. It seemed that they completely trusted and respected you to convince the Adari leaders that their decision to ally with the First Order was the right one, and considering the ease and enthusiasm the leaders sent you off with you’d like to think you succeeded.

You had a dumbass smile on your face, when you received a call on your datapad. It was the Commander.

“Report to my working space, Captain,” he said, his voice a smooth baritone. You noticed it wasn’t synthesised, meaning he had taken the helmet off.

You got up, the realisation that you’d heard his _actual_ voice making rounds in your head, and headed to his working space.

You wondered what awaited you.


	4. Lesson in Seduction, Ft the Commander

You stood outside the Commander’s work station. You weren’t sure whether he was aware that you were there or not, so you raised your hand to knock, but the door automatically hissed open. Taking a deep breath, you walked in before the door hissed closed behind you.

His office was very spacious, tiled floors and leather seats. He was facing a screen of sorts, his back to you, standing beside a huge executive leather seat. Towards his left was a coffee machine, and next to it what looked like very expensive alcohol and crystal glasses which probably cost half the amount of a TIE Fighter. A few feet to your right you saw four very comfortable looking chairs, surrounding a coffee table. There was a pair of large, leather gloves on them, and upon slightly squinting you realised they were the Commander’s. Next to them was that trademark, intimidating helmet. Right in front of you was a console, a bit smaller, but it seemed like a projector, to bring up information he needed from the main console when he was seated at his coffee table. The floor was black, tiled and very smooth. The lights were chromed, and the furniture was generally charcoal and black. Most of the room was brightened by the array of colours from the screens that he was looking at as opposed to the lights dangling from the high ceiling.

All in all, his office was larger and much more luxurious than some officer’s quarters, probably the same size as yours. To keep your mind somewhat sane, you wondered how big his quarters were if this was his office space.

You turned to look at him. He still had his robes on. You noticed he had a lot of hair, thick, wavy and long, falling to just over his shoulders. You wondered how he managed to fit that helmet over all that hair. Your gaze and subsequent attention moved to his hands, sliding over the huge screen in front of him. They were large, with long fingers. You were slightly tempted to tell him to make a fist, just to satiate your curiosity, but then that fist would most likely end up breaking your nose and/or giving you a concussion. You could think of better ways to inflict pain on yourself.

“Commander,” you said slowly, reminding him that you were there.

“Give me a minute, Captain,” he responded in turn, hands flying between the screen and the countless buttons on the console in front of him.

Suddenly, an image popped up from the console in front of you. It looked a schedule of some sort, a _flight_ schedule. You knew it wasn’t a First Order flight schedule, because you could recognise any of the names of the pilots. It showed times in and times out, and you noticed there was a pattern, where a pilot would fly back in and out of the destination after a certain rotation, which was generally after 6 pilots and after 8 days.

You were still studying this schedule, trying to figure out what it was all about, when the Commander turned to look at you. Your breath hitched in your throat, and your mouth promptly went dry.

You quite weren’t sure what you expecting to see under his helmet, but it most definitely wasn’t _this._ He looked… _young._ Well, so did General Hux, but you saw General Hux’s face every day, and you were one of the few officials in the First Order who literally watched the man rise in power. His eyes were a rich brown, with a prominent nose and lips so full most women in the galaxy would commit mass murder for such a pair. He had some freckles and birth marks, but other than that his skin was smooth. His hair covered almost the entirety of his ears, and all you could see were part of his earlobes. All his features were so… _proportional_ to each other.

This man was _fucking gorgeous._ He was so handsome all you could do was stare, your lips slightly parted, blood working overtime to get oxygen into your brain so that it could start functioning again.

Granted you’d heard the rumours. All his (un)lucky one night stands never seemed to shut up about how attractive he was, but even those compliments never did any justice as to how absolutely sexy he was.

“On behalf of general Hux and myself, I’d like to extend our combined gratitude at the efforts you put into interacting with the leaders on Adari today. That was excellent. I’m sure they were very satisfied with your information,” he conveyed to you, his smooth baritone sounding even better when he wasn’t speaking through a data pad microphone.

 That statement, on top of reminding you that you were _blatantly staring,_ also seemed to give you an idea of why he called you into his office, bringing your thoughts back to the present and away from the nasty, _nasty_ areas they were heading to, but they also stirred a familiar heat in your lower belly.

“Thank you, sir,” you said slowly, blushing like a 12 year old. “I appreciate your confidence in me.”

“As a result,” he continued, walking towards you like a predator stalking its prey.  Watching him coming to you made that heat in your lower belly turn into liquid heat and drop straight to your vagina. Instinctively, your thighs and walls clenched, and you swallowed.

“I have, in front of us, the schedules of the recon flights of the Resistance. The one on the right is the one Resistance Forces gave to the leaders and the one on the left is the actual times. There’s a small margin of error between them, which is normal.”

Suddenly you felt him standing right behind you. How did he get there without you noticing? He was so close, you were sure his robes had come into contact with your uniform.

“What is _not_ normal, however, and therefore piques our interest is this information down here,” his voice dropped an octave, a lot more husky, as he bent slowly behind you, almost, but not entirely leaning his chin on your shoulder, his long index finger pointing towards the small print on the bottom left corner of the screen. From the corner of your eye you could see a few stray black locks falling forward. Your bodies were actually in contact, your back to his chest. You could feel _everything,_ his broad shoulders, muscular chest and sleek abdomen, all pressed onto your back, the hand that wasn’t pointing to the screen in front of you on your hip.

So on top of being handsome he also just managed to have the body of a sex god. You had never prayed to Black Jesus with the urgency that you were praying to Him then. This man was going to _kill_ you. Your superior should _not_ be able to cause your oestrogen levels to spike like this. It was, quite frankly, not good for your health, particularly your mental health, and it was _downright unfair._

Trying to get your brain in a semblance of order, you read out aloud the words that he was pointing at. “They not only seem to be doing their reconnaissance flights on Adari, but all the neighbouring planets in the Outer Rim as well,” you murmured, patting yourself on the back for keeping your voice steady.

Commander Ren’s hand dropped to the edge of the console in front of you. 

“What we need,” he murmured, angling his head into your neck and slowly moving his arm from your hip to around your waist, effectively pulling you into his body. “Is a few recon flights to figure out which planets those shits are going to, why they are going there and _crush_ them,” he finished, placing a hot kiss on your neck and deliberately grinding his hips onto your bum. You closed your eyes, your head falling back onto his chest, just under his neck. You bit your lower lip hard, in an attempt to stop the shameless moan that would have left your mouth.

“Do you think you can organise that for me, _Cassidy_?” he whispered into your ear, his tone dripping with sensuality when he said your name.

“Yes…Commander,” you breathed yourself, your body subconsciously responding to him.

“I’ll really appreciate it,” he murmured again, grinding harder into your bum. This time, you never even bothered, you moaned loudly, because you _actually felt_ his half-hard cock on you.

Then suddenly, he was off you. He taken a step to your left, and was standing there, face straight, hands on the console in front of him leaning forward and looking at the projected screen. You almost tumbled backwards at the sudden loss of support, but you were frozen in mid-air, unable to move either forwards or backwards. You began moving forward involuntarily, steadying yourself, and the moment you were standing straight, your body somehow had regained control of itself.

Right at that moment, General Hux burst into the room. You turned to look at him, and he was slightly out of breath, glaring daggers at the Commander, and your eyes widened slightly as you realised what had happened.

The Commander had realised that the General was on his way here, sensing him through the Force and immediately backed off (heh).

“Captain Cassidy,” the General greeted, turning from the Commander to you. “It seems Commander Ren thought it would be important to inform you of this new information we have received _without_ informing me first.” He did _not_ sound amused.

“She’s the Captain of the TIE Fighters, General. It would be more efficient to inform her as soon as possible so that she can begin making arrangements for the necessary recon flights,” the Commander said steadily. “In fact she was on her way back to her quarters. It’s been a long day. She can rest today and actually begin the work tomorrow.”

“Please may I request you send this schedule on my data pad,” you cut in quickly, not wanting the General’s sharp eyes scrutinising you. “I’ll begin work tomorrow.”

The Commander nodded once at you, smirking slowly, before resuming his poker face and turning back to the General. “Dismissed.”

“Thank you,” you responded, turning and walking out of the Commander’s office as fast as you could.

You didn’t need to touch your panties to tell how wet they were. Your thighs were literally _sticking_ to them. You were still going over just what had happened back there in your mind. Your Commander was literally trying (and succeeding) to _seduce you._

That, however, wasn’t the problem. The problem was that you were _giving in,_ and that, you reassured yourself, would not do.

The advantage was that you were a TIE Fighter Pilot. You could actually leave the _Finaliser,_ which was exactly what was going to happen the moment you came up with a recon roster. It was easy to deal with your thirst for your Commander when he wasn’t pressing his sexy, _sexy_ body into yours.

…

“So, everyone is satisfied with the roster? No one has any clashing duties?” you asked, looking around at your pilots. They all nodded, some scrolling through their data pads, going through who they’d be partnered with and the rosters again.

“Okay. Nice. I’m sending this to the Commander and the General and if they approve it I’ll send it to the engineers. The roster is effective immediately it’s approved,” you said, promptly sending the roster via data pad.

You grabbed your helmet, heading straight to the hangar for a strong coffee and a good inspection of your TIE Fighter. The roster would be approved in no more than two hours. Bless General Hux’s heart for being so prompt in everything he does.

You had retrieved your coffee, and you were fidgeting with your blaster fighter, when you heard the voice of Chris, the pilot you had been deliberately avoiding for a while.

“Hey Captain,” he said. You watched his boots, coming closer to your fighter. You sighed, and pretended you never heard him and carried on with your blaster.

“I just wanted to confirm if you talked to the Commander about, um, my issue,” he finished quietly, _no doubt_ fiddling with the hem of his shirt. You sighed, moving out from under your fighter to face him.

You had every intention to give him a piece of your mind, but instead you ended up being very amused. Here was a TIE fighter pilot, and he was one of the better ones too, one of the most revered and feared squadrons of the First Order, with a fail rate of _90%..._ here was a pilot, a member of this squadron, standing before you, face flaming red, fiddling with the hem on his shirt, nervous and embarrassed.

You never thought you’d ever use those words to describe a pilot; _nervous and embarrassed._ Fighter Pilots of the First Order were many things: adrenaline junkies, insane, ruthless, dedicated…but never nervous or embarrassed.

“Hello Chris,” you greeted him dryly, tilting your head slightly to the side, _like a certain Commander of yours._ “Sorry, no. I haven’t had a chance to… _address your issue_ with the Commander. There’s been a lot going on, with meetings on Adari and arranging recon schedules. Not to mention there’s been an influx of information to the Order that Lieutenant Mitaka has been managing, meaning scheduling appointments with him to arrange a meeting with the Commander has been a lot more difficult.”

His shoulders fell in disappointment.

“Is your fiancé around?”

“She’s coming soon,” he whispered.

“And you’re scared you won’t be able to fuck her because the commander fucked you so good no one will ever satisfy you that well in your life?”

The sound he made was something between a choke and a giggle. You knew you were being unnecessarily bitchy, and after you getting almost seduced yourself you could completely relate to what he was going through. Bless General Hux for interrupting when he did, honestly. You didn’t think you wanted to be remembered as the Captain that was fucked by the Commander on the console in his office.

Though there were people who were remembered a lot… _less positively,_ like the translator that gave him a blowjob under the desk during a meeting with one of the Kings of a Mid Rim planet. Needless to say she was shipped straight off to Ilum to work on the small First Order outpost there. She was brought back after about a year. The story goes she’s still recovering from the shock.

Whether or not you’d be spared such a fate was up for debate, considering your position in the organisation, but that was a risk you most definitely weren’t willing to take. You were sure the Commander had a phenomenal cock, but over the years you had cultivated a habit of loving yourself.

You looked back at Chris. Were those _tears_ in his eyes?

“Look, Chris,” you began, actually feeling sorry for him. “I…the Commander is not the most… _approachable_ person on the ship. Not to mention I can’t just walk up to him and start pouring out my grievances concerning his sexual activities with the pilots. Rest assured, I’ll try to see if I can speak to him before your fiancé arrives. If she does before I talk to him, just tell me and I’ll try and get in a word ASAP.”

He looked up, his lower lip trembling. He nodded slowly before quickly wiping his eyes, taking a deep breath and walking away, like the strong TIE Fighter Pilot he was.

Right on cue, your data pad beeped. It was a message from the General and the Commander, approving the roster. Without thinking, you put on your helmet and jumped into your fighter. The other three pilots you were assigned with did the same, and as your hands were moving all over the consoles in front of you, bringing your jet to life.

You were just about to take off from the hangar when the communication panel on your console bleeped. It was the Commander. You contemplated ignoring it, but you decided it would be good for your mental health not to. You answered the call, but put it on hold until you had completed your take off. The second your jet hit the orbit, your phone automatically answered the Commander’s call.

“Hello?”

“Captain Cassidy, you are to report to my office the moment you arrive from your recon.”

Again, his voice wasn’t synthesised, and that puzzled you.

“Is…there a problem, sir?” You asked, half-regretting it the second the words left your mouth. You weren’t sure what he was going to say. The Commander was very unpredictable, and you didn’t like unpredictable.

“Not really, Captain. I just want to feel you fall apart in my arms without the General interrupting,” he responded, his voice low, husky.

You gulped. This was _not_ what you signed up for when you decided to join the First Order. You hadn’t even reached a solid land mass and your panties were already so drenched you were convinced they had leaked through your uniform.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, he’d hung up, leaving you, your arousal and your fighter jet in outer space.

“Captain? You okay?” One of your pilots enquired, having not heard from you since you took off.

“Fine. I’m fine. Let’s go begin the recon. We have a couple of planets to visit,” you responded, shifting slightly in your seat to gain some friction between your thighs.

Welp, Rest In Peace your underwear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title may be misleading, but the porn is coming. I promise. It's mostly what you filthy savages are here for anyway, including myself. Be patient.


	5. Commander Ren's Personal Whore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you are, you thirsty animals. This is the longest chapter thus far, and most of it the filthy porn you have been waiting for. Enjoy it like the true savages you are.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my garbage and joining me so deep in this Kylo Ren Trash Pit. No words can express my gratitude and appreciation. Your comments/kudos really do fuel my passion for writing.
> 
> Also, the TIE Fighters in question throughout the story are theTIE/fo space superiority fighters, the ones that are in TFA.

It had been four days, four of the shortest days of your life.

Normally, you loved recon. _Loved it._ In fact the three loves of your life were good food, good dick, reconnaissance flights and your fighter jet, in that exact order. The way your afro filled your helmet, the adrenaline flowing through you during fights with Resistance fighters, barking orders and information through your jet comms at those tense moments, watching explosions caused by your jet blasters, races with the other pilots, all the bets you placed over who could do the longest orbits…you _loved flying,_ and you were _good_ at it, so good, in fact, that you were not only the _youngest_ pilot to graduate the TIE Fighter academy at 18 years of age, you were also the only woman of colour to achieve that honour and, most importantly, the only pilot in _known history_ to go through the entire programme _without_ reconditioning.

You were a damn good pilot, and _everyone_ knew it, you, your colleagues, your superiors, _and_ your enemies.

So naturally, you were always kind of sad when your recons had to end and you had to go back to the _Finaliser_ or Starkiller Base, and boy didn’t you always look forward to the next skirmish or the next recon, especially the _skirmishes._

You were always there when there were air fights between the First Order and the Resistance. _Always._ You were there, in the middle of it all, blasting anything in your presence that wasn’t affiliated to what you stood for. The Resistance knew you, they were _terrified_ of you and your distinct steel grey TIE Fighter, zooming around blowing shit up. During your skirmishes they always had two to three jets after you, tailing, trying to bring you down. They never succeeded, however, because goddammit you were _the best fucking pilot in the First Order,_ and every time you encountered them you made it a point of reinforcing that fact by the number of jets and pilots they lost by your hand. According to the spies that were captured, you were known as _The Black Bitch,_ and legend has it that resistance pilots trembled at the prospect of encountering you in orbit, since there was a chance that they wouldn’t return alive and in one piece, and you _relished_ in it.

At the moment, however, there were other things that you were relishing in, one of them being the sight of your Commander standing in the hangar, sticking out like a sore thumb, staring _straight_ at you.

You gulped, liquid heat filling your vagina and you subconsciously clenched in anticipation of what he had in store for you. You hadn’t forgotten his command. How could you? He had promised you all kinds of deliciously inappropriate things with his smooth baritone and as much you tried to deny it to the outside world, you couldn’t deny it to yourself: the thirst was real.

“Captain,” one of your pilots, Amelia, called to you through the comms. “Why is the Commander here? Did we do something wrong?”

She seemed concerned. You couldn’t blame her. Generally, if you were pilot that was flying back to your stationed base and you found the Commander awaited you, you knew you done fucked up. After landing you had a welcome back present of a force-choking (courtesy of the Commander) and reconditioning (courtesy of the General), none of which, you assumed was particularly pleasant.

“No, Amelia. We haven’t done anything wrong. He probably just wants to talk to me,” you responded, hoping to alleviate her fears. “Inform the pilots that will be replacing you of your landing so they can leave ASAP. Everyone hit the engineering bay so your jets can be looked at. Rest for 24 hours and then start working on your reports. Send them over within 3 hours so I can send them over to the Commander and the General.”

A variety of affirmations hit your comms at that instance, and as you all landed, you were immediately swarmed by the engineers, no doubt wanting to look busy so not to risk the ire of the Commander. You pushed your way past them and only then could you manage to take your helmet off. You took two strides before you were face to face (face to helmet?) with your commander.

“Welcome back, Captain,” he greeted you, his synthesised voice as indifferent as it ever was. “Verbal report?”

You swallowed. You were standing before a man who could get you wet by just _talking_.

“Thank you, sir. The Resistance is looking for materials, mostly for manufacturing. Word on the ground is that they have requested monetary support from the Hosnian System, but this support either isn’t enough or it’s not coming at their desired frequency, so they’re trying to find other ways to get what they need cheaply,” you promptly responded, staring into his mask.

He turned around, in a flurry of robes, leaving the hangar. “I expect a written report from you soon, with all the details,” he said as he walked away, most likely towards his office.

You breathed out, heading to your own quarters. **My quarters. Tonight. 2000hrs. I’ll be waiting for you, _Cassidy._ Don’t be late.**

You froze, visibly panting. Everything around you stopped. It was his voice, _in your head._ Smooth, confident and _sexy as fuck._ If he could so easily infiltrate your mind to communicate his thoughts, then that meant-

**Rest assured, I’ll do _everything_ you’ve ever wanted me to do to you, you fucking filthy _slut._**

You whimpered in sheer pleasure, reaching out to the wall in front of you to steady yourself. Your legs had turned to jelly, as they had actually given out in response to his tone in your head. You felt a hand on your shoulder. “Captain Cassidy? Are you alright? Do you need to be escorted to the med bay?” You turned to the voice, having closed your eyes and trying to regulate your breathing. When you finally had some control of your bodily functions, you breathed out fully, opening your eyes.

“No, thank you. I’m fine. It’s been a long recon. I’m just fatigued, is all. I just need sleep,” you managed somehow. The engineer nodded, and left you to your merry way.

He knew. He _knew_ every single dirty and nasty thought you’d had about him. Here you were, thinking you were being sneaky by thinking all the despicable things you want to do to him and him to you, but you were projecting all these thoughts to him clear as day. He could _see_ and _hear_ them _clearly_. That was so unfair though.

At this point, your body was so confused. You didn’t know whether to be turned on or utterly humiliated. The man wouldn’t even let you sleep he wanted you that badly. Of course, you found no problem with that.

Okay, you really weren’t in a position to judge when it came to thirst, but really, he hadn’t just been doing laps around planets in the Outta Rim in a TIE Fighter jet.

Oh boy…it was gonna be a very… _satisfying_ night, if anything.

…

After a long, _long_ shower (you even washed your hair, just to give yourself more time to actually comprehend what you had gotten yourself into), you changed into casual evening wear and made your way to the Commander’s quarters, which wasn’t a particularly difficult feat, considering your own position in the organisation. There were no random officials to walk into, looking at the general direction you were heading and loudly contemplating your fate for you. You were sure many had made this trek before, mostly terrified, some of the more insane ones (like yourself) excited, maybe a mixture of both.

Your main worry, however, was making this very same trek back to your quarters. A walk of shame was one thing, but a walk of shame _in public_ was a whole different kettle of fish, really. You could deal with the former but not the latter. It was going to be a while before you next left the _Finaliser,_ and the whole time you were here you didn’t want to be subjected to whispers amongst First Order Personnel as being the latest notch on the Commander’s bedpost.

Maybe if you fucked him real good he’d let you stay a couple of hours so that you can leave a little bit later in the day, where, like now, there was less human traffic between his quarters and yours.

You were still musing, when you finally reached the door of his quarters. Looking at your watch you saw that it was, indeed 2000hrs. You were right on time. You breathed out loudly one last time, pulling the sleeves of your shirt over your hands and raised your hand to knock on his door, announce your presence and walk into your doom. However, before you could do any of the above, the door automatically opened, as if beckoning you inside, like the true allure of the Underworld. You walked in, looking around, and current nerves aside, you were actually impressed at the interior design of his quarters.

For one they were spacious, as in _spacious_. Clearly being an apprentice of a powerful Dark Side Force user had its advantages. The rom you were standing in was something of a lobby, with a rug and low lighting. There was another room just beyond it, with even less lighting. You tried to squint to see if you could make anything out, but it was almost in complete darkness. To your left was a closed door, leading to what you assumed was his refresher. Next to that you saw his distinguishable boots, next to another door that was slightly opened. Nest to the boots was his trademark helmet. Hanging on the door were his robes. That door probably led to his wardrobe.

Overall, the colour scheme of the room was varying blacks and greys.

You walked a little bit forward, and squealed when you saw him. There he was, seated cross-legged on his bed, a massive four poster, with grey sheers hanging from them, no doubt king sized, staring at a data pad. On each side of the bed were two bedside drawers, both with lampshades, the only source of light on this section of his quarters. There were rugs on either side of the bed, as black as his sheets and his comforter.

He was barefoot, with loose black slacks. He had a sleeveless shirt on, rather fitting, the pitch black contrasting with the slight paleness of his broad shoulders and muscled arms. His hair was careless tousled, full and thick, just barely falling over his ears and his shoulders. He looked exactly like he did a couple of days ago when you first saw him without the helmet. When he looked up at you, your mouth went dry.

His eyes were golden amber, and all moles and birthmarks accounted for. His prominent nose worked well with his full lips like before, lips that had you currently fantasising doing very sinful things to your body. Of course, not that he wasn’t entirely aware of that.

His half smirk and narrowing of his eyes sealed your impending doom. You clenched your thighs together.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, his smooth baritone low and husky. It was exactly the same as when he told you how he wanted you to fall apart in his arms when you were leaving, but your mind was still rediscovering the wonders of cognitive thought to focus on that for too long. You were _soaking_ and the man had barely even spoken to you. Your body would _explode_ if he as much as touched you. His voice sounded like crushed velvet, and it was eliciting very funny reactions in your brain.

You were still staring, when he placed the data pad down and stood up, his height towering over you even from feet away. He looked right at you, stalking towards you.

“Perhaps you’d prefer I push you onto the wall and fuck you sore if you don’t want the bed?”

You _could not_ speak. This man was so unbelievably sexy he, quite literally, rendered you speechless. As far as you were concerned, either option seemed optimal to you.

“You fucking, filthy whore,” he growled, before pushing you onto the wall with the force.

You braced yourself with your hands as you hit the wall, suddenly remembering that he could delve into your mind if he so chose. You were so overwhelmed with arousal that you could barely even notice the slight pressure applied to your temples. Before you could turn around he was behind you, one powerful arm around your waist to hold you in place, the other hand slowly sliding down the front of your pants.

Slowly and deliberately he moved his fingers toward your vagina, feeling your heat. Your legs were trembling and you swallowed heavily before letting out a shaky breath. He buried his face in your neck, placing a hot, open mouthed kiss on your pulse. A whimper escaped you. His smirk widened.

He slipped a finger between your folds, feeling you literally drip into him. His thumb found your clit, and he traced over it, allowing your fluids to literally run over his hand. You mewled this time.

“Please…” you breathed. “I-Commander Ren…”

He chuckled, rumbling through his chest on your back relishing in your suffering. Lucifer.

“Hmmm?” he hummed on your shoulder, holding you tighter and brushing against your clit again. You moaned loudly.

You tried wiggling your hips to get his fingers inside you, and he stopped, holding you down with the force. You gulped. It appears you were going in a bit over yourself.

“Don’t you _dare,”_ he growled. You froze, a mixture of fear and arousal clouding your mind. He had moved off you, his body heat and masculine scent having left you, which explains why your brain had decided to somewhat function again.

Suddenly, he was back behind you, his thigh in between your legs, his large hands gripping your hips. “Don’t you fucking _dare,_ slut, move without my express permission. You are _mine_ when you’re in this space. I make you cum, I fuck you when I want, how I want, your body responds only to me. You are _my_ whore at this point in time, and any other time I demand your services. _My whore._  Am I clear, Captain Cassidy?” he ordered, whispering lowly into your ear, using his body language to channel his previous infuriation to you.

You were so turned on your ability to form words had disappeared again, so all you could do was nod very enthusiastically. Never had a man ever dominated you like this.

“Strip.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a command. It was an order.

Slowly, with shaking hands, you removed your shirt, the bra under it. Then your basket-ball shorts came off with your panties. You jumped out of your house slippers, since it would be really awkward to be naked with turtle slippers on your feet. There you stood, naked, facing the wall, your back to him, trembling in the sudden change in atmosphere and anticipation.

There was a slight shuffling behind you, sounding like someone was getting their clothes off. You wanted to turn around and look, but then you remembered that you may be decapitated by that shitty lightsabre, so you chose to stay still, trembling in your arousal.

In a split second he was onto you again (he was _so fast_ ), and he’d turned you around, lifted your legs to his hips his hands literally on your bum cheeks, holding you against the wall and plunged his thick cock into your vagina. You screamed his name in equal parts pleasure and pain, as his cock filled you completely, your walls struggling to stretch and accommodate him. He was so _big_ and _thick_ and _hard_ that it drove you _insane_ and it was difficult to understand how he could _fit._ Quite frankly, it was difficult to understand anything at all, really.  At that point in time, you were able to confirm two rumours about him.

  1. He was massive, definitely bigger than Joel in that rubbish time in his cockpit. He completely filled you, stretching you around him and then some. It was
  2. He was phenomenally sexy, powerful arms holding you up like you were a piece of paper, his muscular body not even straining from supporting your weight against the wall. His black robes did him no justice, for they definitely underplayed just how _broad_ and _masculine_ he was.



You wrapped your arms around his neck to stop yourself from sliding against the wall, and those full lips of his found your mouth. Even his kiss was aggressive, a testament to his _authority, control_ and _power,_ shoving his tongue into your mouth and winning the battle of dominance before you were aware it had begun. He pulled out of you, slowly, deliberately, relishing in the moans he was blocking with his kiss and pounded right back into you. You screamed in his mouth, your thighs trembling, your body ready to give in.

Naturally, he’d have none of it.

He lifted you up once, as he was still inside you, and he begun thrusting. Hard and fast he moved. Again you were lost for words, and he pulled away from the kiss and buried his face in your neck, pounding furiously, releasing nothing but grunts from you. He was fucking you _so good_ you actually lost the ability to control your vocalisations. He himself groaned in expressing his pleasure, relishing in the fact that he had the power to make you fall apart in his arms at any moment.

“God you’re so fucking tight. That other pilot isn’t fucking you right, is he?” He asked as he took your earlobe into his mouth and suckled on it as he still fucked you.

“No,” you managed through his ruthless thrusts. “Never like you.”

“Of course he can’t fuck you like me. _No one_ can fuck you like me,” he breathed, ravishing your mouth again before you could attempt to respond. Quite amazing how even in the throes of pleasure he was still so cocky. It increased his sex appeal significantly, nonetheless.

One arm left your hip and slid its way in between your legs, where his cock was moving in and out of you. His index finger moved over your clit, and you chocked, the pleasure so blinding you couldn’t even construct sounds properly from your mouth. He did again, repeatedly, in rhythm with his cock. He broke the kiss and looked at you, his brown eyes darkened significantly from lust, that predatory smirk still on his face.

“Look at me,” he ordered, when he sensed you dropping your gaze from embarrassment. Both your breathing was erratic, panting from the strain of your current…activities. Thank God you were black, because if you could express your embarrassment through your skin tone you might as well have been a human ketchup bottle.

“Cum for me,” he murmured with a final flick of his finger over your clit and a final thrust. You closed your eyes, white light blinding you through your eyelids, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let your orgasm wash over you, your walls clenching over his cock and trembling in his arms. You bit your lower lip, because you really didn’t think both of you were ready to hear whatever sound you’d emit this time. With a final growl, a low, masculine, animalistic, sexy sound, he himself came as well, filling you with his seed as his hips twitched and rolled over yours allowing both himself and you to experience his orgasm.

Both of you begun calming down, regulating your breathing. The sex you just had was more strenuous than the exercise you usually scheduled for the other pilots. He finally pulled his cock out of you, making you wince in the process because _holy Jesus_ you were sore and only then you could see how _big_ he was.

“Ah,” you muttered, blatantly ogling, the mixture of his seed and your fluids making it glisten in the dim light of his quarters. He chuckled, and you quickly looked away, humiliated that he caught you staring at his dick.

He placed you on the ground gently, his arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as your legs trembled.

“You’re one of the best fucks I’ve ever had,” he murmured in your ear, pulling you against him, your back to his chest. He muzzled his face in your neck, and all you could do, other than blushing, was sigh contentedly. “I don’t mind doing that again, now that you’re my personal whore,”

You gasped in embarrassment. Not that you’d mind shagging him consistently into the far future, but…well…there was no but. He wasn’t wrong.

He huffed in amusement  in your neck.

“Go take a shower. As much as I love your tight little pussy, I don’t appreciate it messing my sheets.”

_Why was he so **sexy** when he was so vulgar?_

 


	6. The plot thickens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write combat for shit, but I hope this is somewhat satisfactory. Also, the REAL story begins from here. Enjoy the plot for a bit before I indulge in your more sinful sides.

Well then, this wasn’t exactly how you expected this day to begin.

You were standing before an infuriated General Hux, a smug Commander Ren, a shocked Lieutenant Mitaka, and an amused Captain Phasma. All eyes were on you for a variety of reasons, none of them what you would consider _pertinent._

“I highly doubt, _Captain Cassidy,”_ General Hux seethed in front of you, barely getting the words out through gritted teeth, his ears as red as his hair, fists clenched and his entire body was shaking in his rage, “that you have completed your report concerning your reconnaissance mission that you just completed, going by the activities you _indulged in_ with the Commander and your _appalling_ state of dress, though in this case I’m sure _undress_ would be more appropriate.”

You looked down to your bare feet, your utter humiliation pouring off you in waves. You were in _General Hux’s_ office of all places, standing around a console. Commander Ren was the only one seated down, in a sleeveless shirt, his wraps around his arms, his normal pants and boots. He had his helmet and cowl on, no doubt hiding his mirth. His normal robes were covering _you_ , because you flat out _refused_ to wear your _pyjamas_ to a meeting called by the General. The only thing you had beneath your general’s robes were your panties and a bra, the only things you had to grab before The Commander pulled you into his arms to devour your mouth and slip a finger in between your legs. The man was _insatiable._

His robes had a very distinct scent, a scent you noticed when you were comfortable in his sheets last night. He smelt of sandalwood and fresh rainwater. It had a soothing and erotic effect, very subtle, but also very unique.

“No,” you responded quietly. “I am to receive all the other pilot’s reports today and consolidate them into one document, including mine and send them to you and, um, the Commander by 1400 hours today. If you can please release me right now I can still make that deadline.”

Suddenly, your fingers seemed to be very fascinating. You licked your lips nervously, praying that you were released back to your quarters to shower and change and actually get to work.

“Consider yourself very lucky, Captain, that you are one of the most competent employees in the First Order at your rank, because if you weren’t as good at your job as you are, I can assure you you’d be on a one way flight to one of our controlled planets in the Mid Rim to a _very_ remote outpost for a substantial amount of time,” General Hux conveyed to you flatly, significantly calmer.

“If the Commander and I don’t have that report by 1400 hours today, it’s going to take a lot more than sucking his dick to get you out of the trouble you’ll be in. Am I _clear?”_ he hissed, his temper assumingly back. You winced at his vulgarity, but you nodded, his point more than clear.

“Dismissed, and you Captain Phasma, Lieutenant Mitaka, I expect _much_ better from the both of you,” he finished, before promptly turning away from us, his back facing us and proceeded to start reading some of the information on one of the consoles in front of him. You didn’t wait to be told twice. You bolted the hell out of there, sprinting straight to your quarters to wash your humiliation and the Commander’s seed, saliva and all other bodily fluids from your body. It was going to be a very busy day.

You still had the Commander’s robes on though.

Fuck.

…

Okay, you _knew_ it was going to be a busy day, you didn’t know things were going to go from super busy to downright anarchy.

Generally, you never minded chaos. In fact you thrived in a little bit of chaos. Your desk, your room, your schedule…everything about you had a bit of some organised mess. You believed chaos was important, mandatory even, for any manner of beings to exist and function at their peak. Chaos was important to see how people function in times of crisis, one of things, you realised, The First Order was superb at manufacturing.

Your intrigue with chaos was also one of the reasons you were _in_ the First Order, not like that was a secret.

Before they conquered planets, particularly in the Mid Rim, The First Order made it a point to manufacture just a bit of chaos, the last straw that would break the camel’s back, so to speak, then leave. When the planet in question was descending to a point of no return, the First Order would swoop in and save them from their apparently terrible fate. They’d then be received as heroes, and the leaders and people from the planet would be indebted to the First Order, a debt they repaid heavily with resources, be it raw materials or human labour.

You knew this because more often than not, the TIE Fighters always had a hand in perpetuating the chaos that would start this cycle.

So the moment you completed your report and sent it over to the General and the Commander and waited for them to summon you for any enquiries they had, you were _not_ expecting the tell-tale beeping on your and all other mid to high level members of the First Order’s data pads, and the impending catastrophe that spelt for you all.

You were heading to the bridge, to join the others. Most of you were accounted for, but the Commander was nowhere to be seen. Your jaw tensed. If First Order Personnel were called to a meeting and the Commander wasn’t there, it was most likely terrible news, which meant there would be a certain corridor and/or room that would be utterly obliterated.

General Hux was stiffer than the wings of your fighter jet. You swallowed. You spared a glance over to the Lieutenant. The man’s hands were shaking so much he was having a hard time typing into his data pad. You (and, you were sure most of the officers gathered here) gulped. This was not going to go well.

“There has been an attack on Adari and Aleen,” General Hux begun, deceptively calm. “The Resistance managed to find out exactly where our bases were and destroyed them all. There are no reported survivors-“

Suddenly, you all heard it, a sudden roar of fury, followed by what sounded like hot plasma slicing through metal, concrete and tiles. Two rooms down the corridor to your left you saw debris flying out in all directions, most of it still sparkling hot, tips red, looking like they’d been burned. Everyone seemed to clear from the surrounding area, whether in fear that they’d be hit with that hot debris or that their soft bodies would be the next target of a certain red, shitty lightsabre.

Another incensed howl, as the slicing and subsequent debris continued in that room. You honestly felt truly sorry for whichever technicians that would be assigned to clean up the mess that the Commander’s infamous temper had caused. It lasted for another five or so seconds, before there was utter silence, no one moving even a hair or breathing louder than they should. The only sound that could be heard around you all was the slow purring of the Commander’s lightsabre, _two rooms away,_ before that too was suddenly silenced.

“-however, there are reports from our allies that the Resistance pilots are still in the airspace over Adari and Aleen,” General Hux finished, after giving Commander Ren the time to go through his tantrum.

Right on cue, the Commander’s long stride could be heard from the room. He stomped out, fists clenched, still slightly trembling in his rage.

“Captain Cassidy,” he said, his voice low, controlled. You instinctively snapped to attention.

The thing with people like Commander Ren who were ruled by strong emotions is that they were somewhat predictable. In this case, you knew he would fly off the handle and destroy something in a rage at receiving bad news, but when he was as he was now, deceptively calm and controlled, you _knew_ that this was when he was at his most volatile, because that terrible temper was still there, bubbling under the surface, daring anyone stupid (or brave, you still weren’t quite sure which) enough to pull it out by daring to say something they shouldn’t.

It had happened before, and most of the time aforementioned person had ended up very dead.

So this is one of the reasons Darth Vader was feared? Was this that legendary Skywalker temper? If It was you could understand why people talked about it so much. It was _horrible._

“Where are your pilots that were supposed to be at recon?” he asked quietly, undertones of cold steel in his voice.

You gulped. “They’re still in orbit, sir.”

“All four of them, no?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Assemble two more squadrons and follow me out there,” he continued, in that same voice. “I’m going to personally _decimate_ those scum off _my_ planetary system,” he growled, clenching his fists so hard you actually heard the friction of his leather gloves as they rubbed against each other.

You wondered, behind your fear, if there was time to change your panties because never _ever_ had a man been able to turn you on like this. You really had a death wish, getting aroused at your Commander’s rage, though to be fair, it was connected to his dominance that you loved so much.

He turned towards the hangar, bellowing instructions for his TIE Fighter to be prepared, everyone literally jolting out of his way before he force-threw them off as he passed by, his long strides literally being heard as he walked off the bridge.

You gave the General a quick glance, quietly asking for permission to leave, because if you weren’t at the hangar when the Commander was leaving he’d most likely gut someone. He nodded at you, and for the second time that day, you sprinted away from a meeting, making a straight beeline to the hangar. You got there, to see the Commander’s pearly white superior TIE fighter next to your steely grey one, a stark contrast to his black robes.

If the rest of The _Finaliser_ was in pandemonium, then the hangar was literally breaking down. Engineers, troopers, pilots, technicians and general administrative staff were running around, yelling things and bumping into each other, keeping clear distance from the Commander, who was walking towards his own jet.

You looked around quickly for your helmet, before one of the pilots that was jogging towards his own fighter jet passed it to you. You quickly fastened it on as you got to your jet and jumped into it. Your hands flew over the buttons in front of you, bringing your jet to life.

“We depart in the next three and a half minutes,” the Commander’s synthesised voice could be heard through your comms, still very pissed off. “The rest of you are to follow me and Captain Cassidy. The mission is to kill any Resistance fighter you see. Shoot. Them. Down. On. Sight. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Within the next few minutes, your fighter jets were rising slowly, getting ready for take off.

“Engage light speed mode the moment you hit orbit,” you instructed, leaving the hangar in tune with the Commander. You hit light speed, headed straight for the Mid Rim the second you were safely in orbit. As you were working on your jet, getting ready to drop light speed since you were almost there, Commander Ren’s synthesised voice boomed from your comms. Even through the garbled tech of his helmet, his anger was still very clear.

“Split up in your respective squadrons the moment we get to the respective airspaces of Adari and Aleen. The squadron that’s already there has instructions not to engage in any combat for the time being, as they are to continue scouting. We need to know how far the Resistance influence has reached here. The Captain and I are going to be together, we’re both the best pilots and our jets stand out, so we’ll have the most attention. Don’t help us, don’t follow us. Focus on the mission, Kill every last Resistance Fighter.”

“Yes, sir.”

You could literally feel the fear in that affirmation your pilots gave. On the bright side, this was an opportunity for them to show off their skills. Hopefully he’d be paying attention.

“Dropping light speed,” you instructed, your hand poised on the button.

The second you hit the Mid Rim there were blaster shots coming at you, and you had to abruptly turn to the right to avoid being hit. Luckily, so did the pilots behind you and no one was hit.

Looks like they were ready and waiting for you, battle beginning before you even all hit the system.

You turned, and naturally, there were three X-Wing Starfighters behind you, with three others behind the Commander.

“Cassidy”, he said calmly, though the Comms. You gasped, this was new. He’d never addressed you without your title before. “Come at me.”

For a split second you wondered why he wanted you to fly right at him, when he started shooting at you, you understood. You flew straight at him, shooting at him yourself, and just when the blasters were about to hit you both turned in opposite directions, he to the left and you to the right, and suddenly the Resistance were short four pilots. You each still had one tailing behind you.

“Contrary to popular belief you never broke all those records in the academy out of sheer luck,” he murmured through your comms, deep baritone carrying over your aircraft. The light next to your comms was blinking orange, meaning this was a private conversation. You swallowed heavily, shifting, trying to control that liquid heat pooling between your legs.

“Well, I do try, Commander,” you murmured yourself.

“Kylo,” he muttered back, his lust evident.

Your breath hitched. This man was going to get you _killed._ Flirting while in battle wasn’t exactly what you called a convenient strategy.

You, however, still managed to focus enough to destroy a couple of more Resistance jets, and when you were sure they were all dead, you barked roll call in your comms, finding out if everyone was alive, which to your relief, they all were.

“Squad 44D, verbal report on your recon?” You asked.

“Seems to be nothing here, Captain,” Jude, one of the pilots responded. “The Resistance was apparently only interested in Adari and Aleen. Most of the other planets around the Mid Rim in our control are fine.”

“Good job, guys. I suppose it’s time to go back home, unless you have something else you’d like to investigate, Commander?”

There was a silence, piercing through the orbit.

“Have any of you piloted over Naboo?” The Commander asked quietly, his synthesised voice so low it was a struggle to hear his words.

You nearly choked on your saliva. “No sir. As per your instructions, we never go near Naboo.”

More silence, more melancholic this time.

“Let us get back to the _Finaliser_ then. The General and I will be expecting a full individual report form all pilots that participated in combat today, and the pilots that participated in recon will hand your reports to Captain Cassidy for consolidation before she hands it in to us. I want those reports in the next 48 hours after landing on the _Finaliser_.”

“Yes, sir.”

_Fucking Hell._


	7. A bond forms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for being so late. Masters is hard. Don't do masters, guys. Shit is hard AF.
> 
> Writer's block is even worse. Holy Jesus.
> 
> Here, have a chapter. It has deviated significantly from how I intended it to go, but it pushes my plot forward, so it still works. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Your comments and kudos fuel my passion for writing. Please talk to me about how this is going. I'm honestly looking to go from kinda good trash to brilliant trash. If you prefer to come holla at me on Tumblr, it's nutheadgee.tumblr.com. Come thirst with me.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!

The Commander and the General were flipping through pages of your reports.

“Reconnaissance team, verbal reports?” General Hux asked, gently putting down the final manuscript, most likely deciding to go through it thoroughly later.

All the elite TIE Fighter pilots were gathered around the main console on the bridge of the _Finaliser._ It was three days after the confrontation above the airspace of Adari and Aleen. So far things had been going well; there had been no reports of any sights of Resistance X-wings or any of their personnel on the ground. As you were fighting above them they seemed to escape somehow, not wanting to risk losing any more people than they already had, which, by all accounts, was quite a lot.

 “There have still been no sightings of any Resistance members, both in the air or on the ground. Our sources on the ground tell us that they left, however, they are still searching to see if they left anything valuable than can help us in the fight against them. So far nothing of substance has been found,” the head of the pilot squadron that had just arrived informed you.

The General nodded once, stiffly. The Commander stood next to him, seemingly motionless after he had quickly glanced over our reports. He was uncharacteristically quiet. It was unnerving to say the least.

“They’re regrouping,” Commander Ren said suddenly, out of absolutely nowhere. “They’re trying to consolidate their resources, strategizing and thinking of a way to get back at us. They don’t have the resources of the Republic, which for some reason is hesitating to give them the help they think they deserve, so they are operating as they were before, as if they don’t have enough backing, until the Republic finally decides to act. For now, their main aim is to lay low, trying to get us to a complacent spot, trying to get us to relax. It is then that they’ll strike.” He turned slowly to General Hux.

“We need to get insider information from the Republic. We need to recruit people to our cause, people who can access information from the Senate. If we successfully do this, we should always be one step ahead of the Resista-“

“ **KYLO REN!** _”_ General Hux roared, rendering everyone on the bridge into terrified silence. The only sounds that could be heard were the occasional beeps of the machines around us, but the utter horror was literally palpable when anyone saw the look on the General’s face.

Normally when General Hux was angry, the tips of his ears went as red as his hair, and his brow was very much scrunched, and more often than not his entire body shook. He spoke in clipped tones, through gritted teeth. You could _see_ him projecting his anger through his body language.

Most importantly, no matter how angry the General seemed to get, he _never_ raised his voice at anyone. _Ever._ Not even the Commander, who seemed to be a major cause of his frustration on most days.

This time, however, things were different. The General’s face was stoic, as clear as the smooth tiles you were standing on. The characteristic reddening of his ears in his anger was not there, they were as pale as his face. He stood, face to face with Commander Ren, who slightly bent his helmet to look at him, looming over him in a sense. Commander Ren was bigger than the General in terms of body mass. He was slightly taller, had broader shoulders and was more muscular. General Hux, however, had his large coat around his shoulders, giving him an illusion of being wider than he actually was. There was also something about his quiet fury that made him a lot more intimidating than normal, something that was a lot scarier than his normal glower.

“We are _not_ having anything to do with, with, those _scum,_ ” General Hux hissed, his voice sounding like the sharp edge of a knife. “I will _not_ have any of my men or my organisation fraternise with them. I _don’t care_ what you think. The Republic does not deserve to exist in this realm. They should, they _must_ be annihilated, be totally rid from the galaxy, I would rather risk not being aware of what _your mother_ and her merry band of _Republican rejects_ are up to than even-“

Suddenly the commander moved, punching General Hux square on the nose. The General flew back, hitting the wall with such momentum that we could hear the breath leave his lungs in a rough gasp, before he hit the ground with a dull thud, landing roughly on his stomach. He tried to get up, supporting himself on his elbows and knees before the Commander strode to him and lifted him roughly by the collar and delivered another blow, this time an uppercut from the bottom of his jaw. You winced slightly. That _definitely_ hurt, considering the force of the punch. General Hux grunted, his head moving roughly upward with the momentum, and there were some droplets of blood from his mouth. Even then, with his nose bleeding sluggishly and his jaw badly bruised, colouring to a red-blackish colour where he was punched, he turned to face the Commander, his face still blank. He had hit a nerve, or multiple ones in this case, and he _knew_ it.

“Don’t you _ever_ mention my mother from your garbage mouth, _General Hux,”_ he growled, his temper pouring out from his synthesised voice. He himself was rather calm in his own rage, never a good sign. Everyone knew how to deal with the Commander when he was throwing a tantrum, not when he was all calm and controlled. “If you ever mention her again I’m not sure you’ll be conscious by the time I’ll be done with you, Supreme Leader’s wrath be damned.”

He roughly dropped the General, before reaching for his lightsabre. He drew it and immediately turned to the poor console the rest of us were standing around and descended on it with the notorious Skywalker fury his family line was known for. By the time he was done the console had been reduced to a metal stump, slashed and melted in some parts, red hot metal jutting out and sparking dangerously. He was panting heavily, his shoulders visibly heaving through his layers of robes and armour. He retracted the red plasma, and turned around and walked off, his temper being projected in his gait.

Everyone else was too terrified to move, too terrified to react. The _Commander_ had just punched the _General, twice._ It would have been called a brawl, but the general didn’t even bother putting up a fight.

Either way, as the rest of you were still terrified around what was formally a console, the General managed to shakily get himself onto his feet. Lieutenant Mitaka seemed to be the first one to snap out of his terrified stupor, and he rushed to help General Hux up.

“General,” he said gently, “You need to go to the infirmary. Your nose needs to be looked at and your bruise should be soothed.”

“You are all dismissed for now. We’ll reassemble when the Commander decides he’s going to be the Force Warrior he’s expected to be. Go back to your stations,” The General ordered, his voice nasally and rough, probably as a result of the Commander’s manhandling.

Everyone slowly shuffled out of the bridge, still in shock over what we had witnessed. Despite our alleged victory, there still seemed to be a lot of frustration concerning the Resistance than we previously thought.

…

It was four hours when we had been reassembled on the Bridge of the _Finaliser._ There were technicians working on the console, or more specifically what was the console that Commander Ren had previously sliced into burnt and sparking remains of technology.

The General had been patched up and was looking a lot better. His nose was wrapped up in a small plaster (a dislocation and a few raptured blood vessels, according to the Lieutenant) and the bruise looked a lot less…dark than it did the last time we saw him.

The Commander, surprisingly, was also back. He seemed slightly calmer, but he was still brooding, exuding a slightly menacing aura from his person. Generally everyone kept away from him, not wanting to say something and unintentionally anger him. We had all seen the power behind his punch. Though the General wasn’t exactly a combatant, but he was still a _General,_ and it was probable he had some form of combat experience. If he could be sent flying by a punch from Commander Ren you didn’t want to think about what that punch would do to you.

If he didn’t punch you there was always the option of force-choking you. That didn’t sound like a particularly preferable way to find yourself in the infirmary (or a casket) either.

You swallowed heavily, reinforcing your mental point to never piss off Commander Ren. There were much faster, _less painful_ ways that you could commit suicide, like flying directly into a bunch of Resistance X-wings, for example.

“Any news on your end, lieutenant?” General Hux asked

Lieutenant Mitaka cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to start talking, but then closed it again. He looked quickly from the General to the Commander, before opening his mouth again. This time he actually spoke.

“Word from our allies is that the Resistance is quite desperate for resources,” he begun carefully, dark eyes quickly darting between the Commander and the General. “They are almost sure that despite their losses after our first confrontation the Resistance will be back. The Republic isn’t being as cooperative as they promised. The Senate is very divided on their…activities.”

There was a tense silence.

“Do what you must, General,” Commander Ren ordered, his rage leaking through the amplifier in his helmet. “Clearly your strategies are more superior to anyone else’s. Use that information to plan your next attack.”

He turned around to walk away, and then suddenly stopped. “You are, however, _not_ to use the TIE Fighters without my express permission. If you do, I’ll be sure to give you a one-way, long-term trip to the infirmary.”

He walked off, the warning low and dangerous. Going by the way the General’s jaw was clenched, this wasn’t an idle threat. General Hux may not use the force, and he may have been the leader of this organisation, but he was not stupid. You don’t go out of your way to deliberately provoke a Force user.

…

You were standing on a particularly wide corridor, thinking when it was you suddenly started taking such incredible risks. Granted you were a TIE Fighter Pilot, the Captain of the bunch, and risk was about 85% of your job description, but this was just on a whole new level.

You were already here, may as well go for it. You’d either come out alive or dead, and if you did die, at least you fucked the legendary Kylo Ren. That _had_ to count for some kind of achievement.

You walked to the Commander’s office door and knocked softly. You swallowed and waited.

“What is it?” he growled, the words barely heard through his helmet. He was still in a sour mood.

You breathed in. “Kylo? It’s me. Can I-“ the door opened before you even finished your request. You walked in and found him in his chair by the bar, holding a tumbler of whisky.

You slowly walked towards him. He did nothing, just watched you as you approached him. You gently removed the alcohol from his leather hand and bravely sat on his lap. He sighed, long and deep. You looked at him.

“Take off your helmet, please,” you requested your voice small. He acquiesced, hooking his thumb under it and pulling it off in a variety of clicks and hisses. He flung it on the table in front of you and it landed with a loud bang, before he turned back to you.

You looked at him, still amazed at his beauty even through his fatigue. His hair was a glorious mess, and you passed your hands under the bags in his eyes his cheeks in your palms. He gently leaned into your touch, and you strongly doubted he’d had any substantial human contact since he last had you, moaning and trembling and gasping in his arms as he ruthlessly thrust his dick into you. You blushed at the memory.

You didn’t even know what you were doing here, _why_ you were in here. After the meeting you had some time, and instead of sitting on your desk fiddling with your thumbs you just thought that you should come and see him. He didn’t seem himself, and you somehow thought you should risk your life to come and try and comfort him.

You smiled wryly at yourself. You were supposed to be his personal whore, not his personal counsellor. _He_ was supposed to call _you,_ for one purpose only.

 Through the corner of your eye you saw his large hand stretch towards your hair, before he stopped, hesitating. He turned to you, the question in his warm, brown eyes. You nodded slowly, before he run his hands through your afro, a slight cackling sound being heard by both of you due to the friction with his leather gloves.

“I love your hair. There’s some form of dignity in it, richness. It’s an extension of you, and it’s beautiful,” he murmured, pulling at the strands all over your head, seemingly fascinated at how they coiled back after being stretched.

At this point in time he wasn’t Kylo Ren, The Force Warrior, the most powerful weapon of the First Order, a feared combatant. He was like a little boy, fascinated with a black woman’s hair.

“Thank you,” you responded, shifting on his lap, you hand landing on his abdomen in the process. You felt his abs contract under your touch, and you swallowed in a bid to control your arousal.

“I wonder if she hates me, hates what I’ve become. I wonder if she thinks about me,” he said quietly, turning you around to face him, arranging you on his lap in a way that you were straddling him, one of your legs over each of his muscular things. He sat up straighter, placing his hands on your hips.

“If she would descent right at this moment, I wonder what she’d say to me, if she even thought me worthy.”

You run your hands over his broad shoulders to his chest. “Who?” you asked.

“My grandmother,” he responded. “I’m the embodiment of everything she despised, yet I’m the son of her daughter.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. He sighed again, before leaning into your chest, his head in your boobs. You gasped, too shocked to do anything. You were still trying to figure out how to react then you felt hot liquid on your skin, seeping through your uniform. Kylo pulled you close, holding you tighter, his shoulders heaving.

Your eyes widened. He was _crying._

A wave of sadness hit you, watching your commander sob on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him, giving him the assurance that you’d be here for him at his most vulnerable. You rubbed your hands over his back soothingly, rocking both of you back and forth.

“I miss my mum. I miss her so much. Even my uncle. They’re my blood, they’re all I’ve got and I’m just here, caus-“ he chocked, his grief overwhelming him, unable to even allow him to finish his statement. You shushed him, held him closer in a bid to comfort him.

“When did this get so fucking hard? When did I ever get to this point? I had one fucking job and every day is a risk of me botching it up,” he wailed quietly in your boobs, some of the words muffled up by both his tears and your chest.

“Kylo,” you whispered, pulling his back up to look at you, a monumental effort considering how _huge_ he was. “I have no idea whatever the fuck you’re going on about, but I just want you to know that I’m here, okay? I’m here for you. Don’t bottle it up, it’s not healthy. Look for constructive methods to take your grief out. Don’t go destroying the goddamn ship. Talk to someone, talk to _me._ I promise, I’ll always be here for you.”

“Through it all? I’ve paved a trail of anarchy for myself; Blood, death, murder, destruction. Will you walk with me though it all?” he asked you, eyes red and swollen.

You smiled gently, wiping the tears from his face. “I’m a TIE Fighter pilot. At this point, very little fazes me. I’ve become far too blasé for my own good, honestly.”

He pulled you back into his arms for another embrace. “Thank you,” he whispered, probably the most sincere thing anyone had ever told you in years.

You hugged him back your arms tightening around him. At that moment, a wicked idea hit you.

“I can eve make you feel better,” you purred, feeling him freeze in your embrace, his cock slowly beginning to harden beneath you.

You passed your tongue over your lips. This was gonna be great.

 


	8. Shit's getting down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is some more sin and some more plot. 
> 
> I need to study honestly, but instead I'm looking at Kylo Ren's Shuttle and thinking how it just oozes raw and untamed masculine sexuality, like it's owner.

He raised his head to look up at you. You wiped his eyes, before jumping backwards off his lap and kneeling down before him. You gently opened up his legs, scooting in between them and moving his layers of robes off. You could already see the slight bulge in his pants, and that sent a wave of satisfaction through you. He didn’t even know what you were intending to do to him but he was already getting hard.

You pushed off his armour, and it was then that the true size of his bulge became visible. You’d forgotten how big he was, and the sight of his pants struggling to keep his cock in place made your breath hitch in your throat. You looked up at him through your lashes, and you saw his slight smirk. You reached up and grabbed him, eliciting a rough gasp from him, throwing his head back and sliding down the chair a little bit. Ha! We’d see how cocky he’d be by the time you’d be done with him.

You fiddled with his pants, opening up the button and the zip, pulling down his boxers to get to his dick. It sprung out, thick and hard, with a little bit of pre-cum on the tip. You wet your lips, readying yourself to take him all him. You’d probably get jaw lock after, but it was more than worth it in your opinion.

You risked looking up at him. He was looking down at you, lips slightly parted, chest moving up and down, brown eyes significantly darker from his lust. His eyes were still a little bit red-rimmed from his crying earlier, but overall the swelling seemed to have gone down significantly, which was the entire point of this exercise.

You grabbed the base of his cock, moving your hand up a little bit to use your thumb to smear the pre-cum that seemed to be leaking out a lot more on his tip and you heard him groan ever so slightly. Preparing yourself, you passed your tongue over his tip slightly, under his circumcision scar and he hissed, muffling a curse as well. You were enjoying this, eliciting all these sounds and reactions from him. It felt good to hold all this power over the infamous Kylo Ren. You could do this for a while.

“Fuck,” he growled, trying to reach for the back of your head so that he can pull you down onto him. “Just do it already. Suck me off, you fucking bitch.”

Smirking, you kissed your way down his shaft. Oh, you’d suck him off alright. In fact it was your intention to suck the cum and soul right out of his dick. It was just going to be on your terms. If he didn’t know this before he was going to know it real soon.

You continued for a while. Literally passing your tongue all over him, until you saw his hips almost jerking upwards, you decided it was time to finally give him the release he so craved. You opened your mouth and closed your lips over his tip, and he groaned so deeply his entire body reverberated with it. You slowly took more of him in your mouth, and his hips then literally jerked into you, no doubt of their own violation.

“Holy _shit,”_ he whimpered, his fist tightening in your hair, his other gloved hand gripping the chair he was sitting on, obviously completely enjoying the sensation. You acquiesced to his control, allowing him to tug your head gently upward, requesting you to move without hurting you. Your heart warmed at the gesture, and when you next sunk onto his cock you took him even deeper, feeling his tip at the back of your throat. You then set up a rhythm and pace, bobbing your head faster on him. His whimpers got louder and faster, eventually graduating into gasps, his hips moving in rhythm with your head, effectively fucking your mouth. You brushed your hands over his balls, feeling them tighten and you knew he was going to reach his breaking point soon.

“Dear God,” he groaned, throwing his head back in ecstasy, his hair flipping with the movement. “I’m going to-“ he gagged and you knew it was coming (excuse the pun). At the last second you let go of his dick with a pop, promptly allowing him to cum on your face. You wrinkled your nose a bit when some of it landed just above your lip. You looked up at him, his seed dripping from your face with a smirk, and when he graduated from panting to heavy breathing, he looked at you, and in a show of cheekiness you licked a bit of it off your lip, making him smirk back at you.

“Filthy fucking slut,” he murmured, running his gloved thumb over your cheek, rubbing more of his cum on your skin.

“You love it,” you retorted.

He shrugged, before pulling you back up on his lap. You dressed him back up, as he got a serviette and wiped his seed off your nose, cheeks and lips. You scooted closer, half-lying on his torso, your cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He wrapped an arm around you, securing you on his person.

“I should get frustrated more often if it means you’re gonna suck my cock like that to make me feel better,” he said quietly, playing with your hair again.

You huffed. “I aim to please,” you said, your voice flat.

Speaking of pleasing, you remembered you needed to talk to him about a certain…colleague of yours. Gosh, how were you even gonna start?

“Actually,” you said, sitting straighter on his lap. You wondered what his work out regimen was, because he had some seriously muscular thighs. You shifted, partly to feel them some more and partly to attempt to control your arousal. After all, the thirst was real.

“I do have something to ask you,” you said to him, watching him sit up straighter, pulling you up with him. He looked at you, silently telling you to continue, though his body language showed that he was a bit…amused.

“One of my pilots, um, came to me and told me there was a bit of an…issue concerning you and him,” you started, looking at him to gauge his reaction. His face was otherwise blank, but his eyes shone with mischievous mirth. He knew exactly what you were about to ask him, the asshole. Probably read your mind with The Force like the rude piece of shit he truly was.

“Bloke with the brown hair and blue eyes?” he asked, smooth baritone as indifferent as it ever was.

You sighed. “His name’s Chris. You slept with him a couple of weeks ago, and he’s been a bit distraught after that series of events. He’s gone to counselling and I hear he’s progressing well, but he’s still a bit…disturbed.”

He just looked at you. You continued. “He’s engaged, and he’s feeling very guilty that your one night stand might have a negative consequence on his relationship. So he requested me to ask you to talk to his fiancé, tell her you seduced him. Maybe then she’ll forgive him. Or something. She’s apparently a First Order employee, but she’s stationed on Starkiller Base. She’s coming to visit him for a bit. I think you should talk to them when she’s here.”

He never reacted and just continued to eyeball you. When you didn’t drop your gaze either, he huffed, pushing air out of his nose like a big baby and you raised an eyebrow at him.

Gosh, he was so _extra._

“Very well. Tell him to come with her when she arrives.”

“And don’t do that again. You can fuck the ‘troopers or admin staff, but please leave my pilots out of it. Their bosses don’t seem to mind you ravaging them whenever your hormones decide it’s time for booty hunting,” you grumbled, wiggling off his lap. He chuckled.

“I’m going to bed. See you tomorrow Kylo. Please take care of yourself, and don’t forget that I’m always here for you.”

You left him with a warm smile (which he returned. He was genuinely so _handsome_ when he smiled so completely like that) and you left to your own quarters. You needed to brush your teeth and wash your face. Though the properties of semen were apparently good for the skin, you really didn’t want to sleep with traces of cum  left on.

…

When you signed up for the First Order, just about a decade before, angry, filled with teenage angst and determined to unleash your rage at (mostly) the Republic and the whole fucking Galaxy if they got in your way, you knew it was going to be slightly difficult. That, however, was fine, because to be very fair, life’s kind of boring without a few challenges in the way. You needed stories to tell your grandchildren, if you’d live that long.

The problem here was that you’d really, _really_ appreciate it if the fates kind of, you know, maybe _spaced_ these life challenges a little bit. You were still trying to comprehend that you may or may not be developing feels for your Commander. There were already so many things wrong with that. You could write a thesis, starting from the general inappropriateness of having any kind of relationship that wasn’t strictly professional with your superior to aforementioned superior’s very questionable blood line.

This thing of having _meetings_ every day because your apparently _exceptional_ organisation was on a quest of galaxy domination really wasn’t something you expected very frequently.

But alas, here you were. Again.

At least this time the console was fixed and functional again, so there was that.

“The Adari elders have some news for us,” General Hux begun, looking at Captain Phasma, Commander Ren and you, as you gathered in one of the rooms on the bridge. Normally he would have you all on the bridge, but since he had a room specifically reserved, this was most likely classified information.

A good thing, though, because there was a high likelihood that you’d be flying out in the near future.

“I should think this is good news, as they requested you all to be here.” He turned back to the holo-conference facility and put it on. The head of the Adari elders appeared on the screen in front of us.

“Good evening, General Hux,” Elder Sheeva spoke, his normally hoarse voice not as gravelly as you were used to hearing it.

“Good evening, Elder Sheeva. Everyone is here, as you requested. What is this news you thought we should all receive?”

“Good news for the First Order, for once,” he said, his enthusiasm evident. “It seems the Resistance is in a rut. They are having a massive conflict with the Republic. There is a very big disagreement on how they should carry out…the spreading of their ideals.”

It was quick and imperceptible, but you saw it. Whether or not anyone else in the room did as well, you weren’t sure, but you definitely saw it. Commander Ren’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to make a fist, but he managed to relax before he did. It was a very quick action, lasting less than a second, but it didn’t escape your vision.

You wondered what emotion that particular action conveyed.

“The Republic has been delaying the funding promised to then because they have apparently wanted to discuss this particular issue with the Resistance. The Resistance, in turn, will hear nothing of it. They want the funding because they are the combatants, they know how best to utilise the funds,” Elder Sheeva continued.

“They do have point though, don’t they? The Resistance is the one that protects the Republic. The Republic may have the finances, but the Resistance has the personnel and the technical knowledge. Both can’t function effectively without the other,” Captain Phasma added.

“The Republic also seems to be having a lot of internal conflicts, with some of the Senators supporting the financial backing of the Resistance. There are others who don’t seem to agree. Of course, politically speaking it is understandable why they are apprehensive to support the Resistance. That would mean they were declaring war against the First Order, and another major galactic conflict will begin, and a great majority of them do not want that, since that will involve them having to actually put in more effort in their work, Elder Sheeva continued.

You pondered on those words. “The Republic isn’t stupid though. They are beginning to be aware of the kind of threat we pose, and they are trying to mobilise, waiting for an attack from us. All they need is an excuse. We have to attack them directly for them to declare war against us. Simply attacking the Resistance alone won’t do. How do we know this isn’t a bait, that they aren’t plotting something else under all this?” You asked, looking around at the Captain, the Commander and the General.

“They are scared of General Organa,” the Commander stated, his voice sounding contemplative even through the vococoder in his helmet. “The Republican Senators are obsessed with control. They think since they control the funds they should have control over the army. The combatants, _especially_ the pilots are intensely loyal to her, and the bulk of the combatants are the air strike. Whoever has control of the X-wings and their pilots has control of 90% of the Resistance fighting force.”

“This is our chance,” General Hux said, suddenly invigorated, most likely by this news. “We should strike that repulsive Republic now when they are still squabbling. Once we destroy them it will then be easier to destroy the Resistance.”

The Commander immediately turned to him, and the mood suddenly turned tense. General Hux never backed down, looking right back at the Commander.

“Define what you mean by destroy, General,” Commander Ren asked, voice lower, his temper beginning to come through.

“I mean just that, Ren,” General Hux responded calmly. “ _Destroy_ them.”

Commander Ren clenched and unclenched his fist. He was very evidently restraining himself from reaching for his lightsabre. “I don’t think destroying an entire planetary system is in good taste, even for _you._ ”

“You’re not quite one to lecture others on wanton destruction of property and blatant disregard for human life, _Commander._ You’ve murdered and destroyed a lot of things in your short life.”

“I have, but I have never done so at such a massive scale as you’re about to do. Go for the Senators. Leave everyone else alone. Those planets and the Hosnian System as a whole have a lot of resources we can utilise.”

“Won’t that take a long time, Ren? Supreme Leader isn’t one for unnecessary time wasting.”

“You’re the General, aren’t you? You’ve been lauded far and wide for your strategic and military brilliance. Perhaps that’s more of your forte, figuring the intricacies out. I’m just but a, how did you say it when we first met, _savage destructive force.”_

The General didn’t have a response to that jab, but the tension in the room was stretched like a rubber band, brittle and ready to snap at any moment.

“Perhaps we should consult the Supreme Leader,” General Hux said through clenched teeth, his jaw tensed. “Dismissed.”

Oh boy. This wasn’t good.

…

Two hours later, the Commander walked out, stomping, no doubt in a terrible mood, towards his quarters. General Hux went straight to the bridge, his gait impatient, but there was smug victory in it as well.

The General most likely got his way and the Commander was rebuffed. Generally, this never spelt good news. You wanted to go talk to Kylo about it, but he was nowhere to be seen, probably already in his rooms. He wasn’t swinging his weapon everywhere, destroying property, meaning that the General had the complete upper hand on him in that regard as well.

You gulped. It was going to be a difficult few weeks.

General Hux finished bellowing instructions from the bridge, before he turned to you.

“Captain Cassidy,” he ordered. “Prepare a craft to take me to Starkiller Base. I am to oversee the destruction of the Hosnian System on the Supreme Leader’s orders. You have twelve hours.”

He turned away, walking towards his quarters, most likely to go pack up.

Oh boy.

 

 


	9. Irritations of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a filler'ish chapter, but it's integral to some character development. Just thought I should let y'all know.

This was too much.

Even for the First Order, this was way too much. It was just unnecessary overkill, honestly. Yes, you were at war, and yes, maybe, just maybe the Republic deserved this because quite frankly, they weren’t as good as the painted themselves out to be. In fact, you mused, frowning, the only difference between the First Order and the Republic was that one organisation had arisen from the Galactic Empire and the other from the Galactic Empire. Both had murdered, both had plundered, and both had destroyed countless lives in their constant wars to conquer each other.

Well, there was also the Fact that the First Order was little more…blunt when it flexed its power.

All in the name of the Force, the Dark Side and the Light side.

Destroying a town, a city, a planet, was one thing. Some few hundred thousand lives. That you could deal with. However, destroying _an entire planetary system_ just for the sake of proving a point and showing off your new, shiny weapon was completely and utterly out of taste.

This was not the First Order you signed up for. This was not the organisation you were proud to fight and risk your life for every single day. This was something else. You knew General Hux hated the Republic, everything they stood for. You knew they destroyed everything his father had built, all the effort, sweat and blood his father had pumped into his organisation, gone. You understood the animosity behind that, the drive, the sheer will power to be as great as he is, to rebuild what was destroyed, because it was something that you experienced. You decided to be the best at what you did because of what happened to you parents and your home, but never had you though to just mercilessly and wantonly wipe out billions of lives, innocent people who probably knew and understood nothing of this war, billions of innocent souls who cared less and probably didn’t even want to get caught up in this bullshit.

However, just because of one man’s hatred for a select few, they would be wiped out, poof! Gone, just like that, nothing but collateral damage.

Perhaps General Hux had never really been in a war. He had literally never seen the light die out from someone’s eyes, their life force literally draining out of them. All he knew was stats. Statistics and strategy. Death to him was an abstract concept. Other people did the killing, the _actual act._ All he did was give the order. His soul could deal with his saying things, taking responsibility for giving the order for needless massacre, but you strongly doubted it could deal with actual thing itself, the actual act of _murder_.

Then again, he was born and brought up in bureaucracy. From your experiences in the First Order, most people who were born in bureaucracy were surrounded by opulence and luxury, so used to things just happening for them and at their whim they never quite understood what actually happened behind the scenes. The _work_ that actually went into ensuring their lives were as smooth and flawless as they were.

Perhaps that was why he was so excited to exterminate five whole planets and feel absolutely nothing.

You clenched your fist, the one that wasn’t working on the console in front of you on the bridge, ensuring that the _General’s_ take off from The _Finaliser_ was as smooth as possible. You were so disappointed in your organisation, but too helpless, not high enough in the hierarchy to do anything about it.

For the stars’ sake _Kylo Ren_ could barely do anything about it. Kylo Ren, a Knight of Ren, a Force warrior, the Supreme Leader’s apprentice; _he_ was helpless.

You dropped your gaze, closing your eyes and clenching your teeth. _Why?_

“Captain Cassidy,” you heard your name in a thick Coruscanti accent. You looked up and turned to the direction of aforementioned voice, straight into the boyishly handsome face of Petty Officer Thanisson. “General Hux is asking if it is safe for him to take-off.”

For a second you were taken aback. There was something in the Petty Officer’s brown eyes, something dark, erotic, wicked in his gaze. Was your current frustration clouding your judgement?

You shook your head slightly, looking at the screen in front of you before giving your answer.

“Yes,” you said clearly, not looking at him this time. “Everything is clear, Petty Officer Thanisson. General Hux’s ship is safe to leave the hangar of the _Finaliser_.”

You found a headset and begun barking instructions into the landing bay, enquiring from the engineers and pilots down there if they have double checked everything. You wanted to ensure everything was in excellent condition for your General’s travel, despite your current feelings of anger and resentment towards him. He was still the General of the First Order, still your boss and you were sure you wouldn’t be long for this world if anything happened to him.

Through this you felt a sharp gaze on your back. The hairs at the back of your neck stood on end, shivers of trepidation flowing over your body like an icy stream. From the corner of your eye you saw Thanisson, shamelessly appraising you, lecherous smirk on his face. You abruptly turned to him, meeting his gaze and narrowed your eyes. For a split second he held your gaze, before dropping it, turning back to his work.

“It’s very impolite to stare, _Petty Officer,”_ you spat at him with a snarl, venom dripping from your voice when you said his rank.

“I apologise,” he said quietly, that wickedness in his eyes infecting his voice. He did not sound apologetic at all. You could literally _feel_ his testosterone flowing out of his body.

You considered walking towards him and punching him in the face, but just then Colonel Kaplan came in and begun barking orders. It seemed the General had left in in charge of things here in his temporary absence. Not wanting the extremely observant Colonel to see your rage you turned back to your screen, hoping if you mentally projected enough anger at it it would break apart, or short circuit or something.

You observed the General’s ship leaving, and when they disappeared completely, only just a dot above the atmosphere of Starkiller Base, you excused yourself to go back to your workspace to brood.

…

You sat at your workstation, mug of steaming coffee in your hands, brooding as you sipped. It was hot, black, strong and bitter, just like you. You chuckled sardonically at the accuracy of that description, wondering _what_ you had done wrong in your near past to tempt the fates.

You and Thanisson had a…history of sorts. He was rather obnoxious and snobbish, having come from upper class Coruscant, his father, like General Hux’s was a former high ranking officer in the Galactic Empire. He had been in the First Order about a year when you arrived, and he was one of the first people you had interacted with, when he escorted you to your room and brought you your very first set of uniform later on. He was adorable at first, but as you both stayed on The _Finaliser_ longer he grew into his looks and though he maintained his boyishly youthful face, he grew to be quite handsome.

The more you hang out in each other’s company, the more your realised he was beginning to get very touchy-feely. Suddenly, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, wanting to initiate physical contact at any opportunity he had. The situation begun getting a little uncomfortable, as you didn’t consider him a very close friend to want to touch you all the time. His touches were always erotic, mostly lingering brushes in areas he though were erogenous zones. Considering how impatient you were, it didn’t take long before you stood your ground and told him to stop, told him that he was being creepy, not respecting your person and your personal space by wanting to constantly touch you.

It was then that he thought was the most opportune time to inform you that he was sexually attracted to you. Needless to say you ended whatever it was that you had faster than the General would think of all the reasons to bicker with the Commander.

Despite that, it seemed that his attraction for you was still going strong. You snorted in your coffee in irritation. Petty Officer Thanisson was an extremely entitled individual due to his privilege, and you knew he probably thought a few smirks in your direction would have you opening your legs for him, thinking you’re like the pretty little things he worked with. You contemplated telling him that you were sleeping with the Commander, but you thought it would be too petty, and in your books there was _no such thing_ as too petty. You could make an exception this time round, though. That still meant, however, that you’d have to deal with him until the General came back.

Or maybe you could just, kind of   _let it slip_ that you were sleeping with the Commander.

Fuck your life.

…

You were standing on the bridge of _the Finaliser,_ two steps behind Commander Ren and one step behind Colonel Kaplan. You had pursed you lips into a thin line, face indifferent, hiding your irritation behind a smooth expression of shade. You were staring at a console screen, waiting for General Hux to begin his grandiose speech before he murdered millions of innocent people.

“I find it very interesting, Captain Cassidy, that you aren’t on Starkiller base,” Colonel Kaplan stated, not even bothering to look at you.

“I’m under the direct command of Commander Ren, sir. He’s a very established pilot, so it would only make sense that the individual in charge of all the TIE fighter jets and pilots should be with someone who they directly report to,” you responded, your voice giving away nothing.

The tension in the air was razor thin, any wrong thing said or done would slice through it like a blaster through human flesh.

“Eventually, you are under the command of General Hux, no?” he asked, very slightly condescending.

Generally, no one else could hear that mockery in his tone, but you’d been around First Order bureaucracy long enough to be able to smell it. You _knew_ he was trying to rile you up. Not today though. You were _not_ in the mood.

You breathed out slowly through your nose.

“Let me rephrase, Colonel. TIE fighter resources are only commanded by the General at the explicit advice of Commander Ren. As long as the Commander approves of the missions we undertake, then the General has full power and authority to order us accordingly and vice versa. I had assumed that all First Order higher commanding personnel were aware of this structure?”

You spared a glance at his hands and the fists he made were so tight you were shocked his gloves weren’t disintegrating at this point.

Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a fuck. You’d proved your point.

“It is beginning,” the Commander’s vocoded voice said, deep and distorted, reminding us why we were there in the first place.

“Today, is the end of the Republic,” the General begun his speech, his voice dripping with contempt and pure _hatred._ “The end of a regime that acquiesces to disorder. At this very moment, in a system far from here, the New Republic lies to the galaxy,” he continued, his voice becoming slightly louder and more passionate.

There were hundreds of thousands of Stormtroopers in front of him, with Captain Phasma being one of the authoritative figures behind him.  You had noticed he was dressed in his full General gear, and if you had to say so yourself, he quite seemed in his element.

“While secretly supporting, the treachery of the loathsome Resistance. This fierce machine which you have built, upon which we stand, will bring an end to the Senate, to their cherished Fleet, ALL REMAINING SYSTEMS WILL BOW TO THE FIRST ORDER, **AND WILL REMEMBER THIS, AS THE LAST DAY, OF THE REPUBLIC,** ” he finished, spittle most likely flying from his mouth and his brow furrowed in utmost concentration. A massive cheer accompanied the end of his speech.

There was a slight pause, about seven or so seconds.

“ **FIRE!** ”

At this point, Commander Ren turned and walked away. On the screens in front of you, you saw the ground on Starkiller base shake and rumble, before a huge red beam of light blasted from it, on its way to destroy the Hosnian System.

You stood there a few seconds more, just staring at the never ending red beam of light, before the Colonel turned to leave himself, his face twisted in that patented grim determined look he’s known for.

After a few minutes you left the bridge as well. You weren’t sure if the planets had been destroyed or not, but that wasn’t something you wanted to think about. You realised it was a little hypocritical of you to condemn your General for a vice that you did a lot more frequently, but perhaps that was why you castigated him so harshly. Taking life is no easy feat – it took you a year before you accepted the fact that you’re a murderer – and it took another couple of months after than realise that your parents probably never approved, but never, in your entire life, did you think would be part of an organisation that would be involved in, quite honestly, a massacre. In fact, this was more of a slaughter. It was much more ruthless, more cruel, and it didn’t settle very well with you.

Well, there was always time for coffee and brooding.

…

Patience is a virtue, you repeated to yourself in your head. Patience is a virtue. _Patience. Is. A. Virtue._

“What can I do for you, Petty Office Thanisson?” You snarled through gritted teeth. He was standing in front of you, that _infuriating_ smirk plastered on his face with what looked like chocolate in his hand.

Patience may have been a virtue, but it was one you most definitely didn’t possess, and that particular fact just might end up being manifested with a punch on his stupidly perfect nose.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at your station? Somewhere up near the bridge where the rest of the administrative staff is? Why are you here?” you snapped.

Generally you weren’t the most social person in the galaxy, but there were some people that just exasperated you by existing. Petty Officer Thanisson was one of those people.

“I thought maybe we should meet and catch up on old times as the General is still at Starkiller Base. There is not a lot of work for me to do for the next couple of hours, so perhaps a reunion would be in order,” he said lowly. You noticed his eyes roving up and down your body hungrily, shameless checking you out. “You’ve…filled up since I last saw you. Being a pilot is treating you well, it seems.”

You slightly shuddered in disgust, taking a step back from your work station that Thanisson was leaning against, trying to look suave.

“You haven’t though. I’m not interested in catching up on anything. I’m a TIE Fighter Pilot. I go out, fly around a bit around a couple of planets, blast shit up and come back, write a couple of reports for the General and the Commander, answer their questions, rinse and repeat. That’s my job and my life. It’s all I do. I’m not interested in what you do and neither do I care. I don’t want anything other than a strictly professional relationship with you, and I would quite appreciate if you respected my wishes and not interact with me unless it is extremely unnecessary,” you growled at him, narrowing your eyes when his gaze never left your mouth as you spoke.

“Come on, Cass,” he murmured, smirking at you. “Gimme a chance. I promise you a world of fun.”

“That’s _Captain Cassidy_ to you,” you barked at him, your temper coming through. “And if you don’t shut the fuck up and back the fuck off _I_ will promise you a world of _pain_.”

Suddenly your data pad beeped, and there was commotion around the hangar. You grabbed your pad, looking at message there.

Come to the hangar. General Hux will be here soon. You, Colonel Kaplan and myself are to receive him.

It was a message from Commander Ren. Grabbing your helmet from your workstation, you pushed your way past Thanisson, making sure to rudely bump into his shoulder as you did. Hopefully with the return of the General he would be permanently out of you life.

Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't make Thanisson too much of a fuckboy, though for all intents and purposes of this story he's supposed to be just that: and entitled piece of shit. It was a little difficult (but great fun) to write him as such, because we really don't know what he really is. I hope you enjoy it nonethelessl


	10. Conflicts arise

It was going to be a difficult next couple of days.

You just knew it. You could feel it in your bones. The General’s jet hadn’t even landed yet and you could already feel the tension in the air, palpable and stretched razor thin. Engineers, pilots, technicians, administrative staff and Stormtroopers alike were walking in a wide ring around yourself and Commander Ren, innately sensing his bad mood, his fist periodically clenching and unclenching. It seemed he had some sharp words for the General, sharp words you were sure would resonate throughout the _Finaliser._

You, and any other person in the First Order with a semblance of intelligence knew that the General and the Commander were not exactly…congenial. In fact the only thing they probably agreed on was their hatred of the Resistance. You strongly doubted they agreed on anything else. The only reason one of them had not murdered the other was because of the Supreme Leader. You doubted he’d be very happy if his prized apprentice and his brilliant general were dead because they hated each other. There was also the fact that both of them probably realised that despite their personality clashes, they, very ironically, complimented each other. Commander Ren represented the Force, the mysticism, the raw power, the _bloodline,_ whereas the General represented the authority, the leadership, the influence, the _fear_ that clutched people’s hearts when the First Order’s name was mentioned.

General Hux’s craft landed, and there was a line of Stormtroopers in front of Commander Ren, something akin to a guard of honour of sorts, forming a kind of path for the General to pass through. The doors to the jet opened, and the General, massive coat on his shoulders got out, followed closely behind by four ‘troopers. He was all poise and grace, and stopped when he came face to face with the Commander.

“Welcome back, General Hux,” the Commander said, his voice betraying no emotion whatsoever from his vocoder. “Very nice speech you had prepared there. If I didn’t know any better I’d have swallowed every word, just like your beloved Stormtroopers.”

You clenched your teeth to stop the smirk that was threatening to split your face in half. The sarcasm was blatantly obvious towards the end, even through the vocoder. There was that legendary sass. You weren’t sure whether it was from his mother or his father. Probably both. The nervous tension that had gripped the ship was overwhelming. The General said nothing, narrowing his blue eyes at the Commander.

“I hope you haven’t destroyed any rooms when I was away, Ren,” the General responded, adjusting his gloves. “I wasn’t quite looking forward to coming back to galactic babysitting duty.”

Oh snap, son!

Some of the ‘troopers fidgeted. You couldn’t blame them. If they were at the wrong place at the wrong time, they’d most likely regain consciousness in the infirmary, badly injured due to a shitty lightsabre. If they were extremely unlucky, they’d never regain consciousness again.

Commander Ren said nothing, turning around, robes flowing behind him, walking briskly towards the bridge. General Hux followed him, leaving the rest of you there, staring after their towering figures. You and Captain Phasma shared a look, before you unanimously decided, without words, that you both wanted to live a lot longer than you currently hard and it would be best to let them bicker on their own.

…

Things were rapidly going from bad to worse.

“ **WHAT?”** General Hux roared, slapping his palm on the console in front of him. Commander Ren stood next to him, unmoved. You winced slightly, but otherwise stayed at attention. Captain Phasma tightened her grip on her blaster and poor Lieutenant Mitaka literally jumped in fear at the General raising his voice.

“That is the way things are, General, Commander. It seems we need to change tactics. You haven’t weakened the Republic. In fact you can arguably say you’ve strengthened them. They have a lot less bureaucracy to go through now,” Elder Sheeva said calmly.

The General  removed his gloved hand from the console, clenching it, probably trying to calm himself down, trembling slightly in fury, face and ears as red as his hair.

It had barely been an hour after General Hux had landed, proud that he’d finally destroyed the Republic, before Elder Sheeva and the other leaders of Adari had called an emergency meeting. Captain Phasma and you had been summoned to the bridge with immediate effect, and the news that the Adari leaders had brought to you was not what either you or anyone else had expected to hear.

Apparently when General Hux was busy committing a massacre, some of the Republic’s Senators, important ones with the credits that financed the Resistance, were at their base of Operations, the planet of D’Qar in the Ileenium System. It had also transpired that these particular Senators never deposited any of their funds in the Hosnian System  planets, and none of our allies knew where their funds were.

So basically, not only had the destruction of the Hosnian System been pointless, the Resistance was still going strong, still with leadership, still with funds.  As Elder Sheeva said, it was arguable that they were stronger.

“At least we have destroyed the Resistance Fleet. They’ll have to build a new one from scratch, and that is an extremely expensive endeavour,” Lieutenant Mitaka said, his voice small, trying to be a little optimistic.

Elder Sheeva sighed. Welp. So much for optimism.

“I’m afraid not, Lieutenant. The Fleet was not in the Hosnian System, and neither is it on D’Qar. We don’t know where it is, but it is probably in the same planet or system where these Senators have hidden their funds. Our spies are all over the Outter, Middle and Inner Rims, searching whenever they can, but it’s going to take a very long time to gather this information and filter out the rumours and truths, I’m afraid. It seems we’re back to square one.”

“But it’s an _entire military fleet._ I’m sure that it does, in fact, take quite a bit of effort to hide a whole bloody military air fleet. Where are your alleged spies _looking?!_ ” General Hux spat, sounding uncharacteristically childish and juvenile, no doubt extremely frustrated.

This must really get to him. He was generally very calm and collected, especially in times of crisis, _and_ when there were subordinates nearby. However, this time there were no subordinates nearby, so perhaps he could let loose.

Honestly, you couldn’t blame him. General Hux wasn’t accustomed to failure.

Commander Ren, who throughout the meeting had said absolutely nothing, turned to the General. “Go inform Supreme Leader Snoke of this…turn of events. As enthusiastic as you were to blow up the Hosnian System, I’m sure you’re equally as enthusiastic to tell him of the pointlessness of the entire endeavour.”

His voice was impassive, but you could literally _hear_ the smirk behind his words. He turned around and started walking towards his quarters.  Suddenly he stopped, as if he had remembered something.

“Don’t forget, General, to inform him that I told you this was not a good idea, but you didn’t listen to me, because _you_ are the General, expert on strategy.”

He disappeared down the corridor; the only thing being heard was the stomp of his boots on the tiles.

Goddamn the Commander was _petty._  You could respect that.

…

You needed to be stopped.

It was the end of the day, and technically, you were off-duty. Generally when you were off-duty you went back to your quarters, ate, showered and slept. Sometimes you masturbated to thoughts of Commander Kylo Ren in the shower, but that was not a recurring thing.

Rarely (like now) did you find yourself in front of his quarters, wanting to comfort him because despite the jabs he kept throwing at the General, you _knew_ he was disturbed. Something was bothering him, and knowing him, he’d just keep it bottled in until it would bubble over and he’d end up destroying a console/room/Stormtrooper/all three simultaneously.

You sighed. Quite frankly, he needed to start paying you for this ‘being his personal whore’ shit. You weren’t even performing the duties of a personal whore. Weren’t personal whores just supposed to be easy convenient fucks? As far as you were concerned, you were currently going far above and beyond an ‘easy, convenient fuck’.

Nevertheless, you stood in front of his door, waiting for it to open for you, and it did, before you could raise your hand to knock. You walked in, looking for him. The sitting room was empty, but when you ventured into his bedroom you found him seated at the edge of his bed, wearing a loose long sleeved shirt and loose slacks. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his head bent, hair falling over his face. He was in a melancholic mood.

You looked at him for a bit, hesitating, before removing your shoes and going to sit next to him.

“Kylo,” you said gently, looking at him. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You exhaled slightly from your nose, wondering what to say to him.

“I…you look…irked. Is there…is there something wrong?” You started again, hoping against all hope he wouldn’t turn his bad mood on you.

He sighed deeply, his massive shoulders heaving with the action. “I told them this would not work out, that it was a bad idea. I told them both, but apparently forethought isn’t my strongest suite,” he responded, his voice low, the quietness of it communicating his frustration to you better than anything ever would.

Well, forethought wasn’t his strongest suite, but that really wasn’t the point.

He placed his palms on his thighs, giving himself leverage and standing up, his formidable height towering over you.

“This is fucking bullshit,” he mumbled, taking off his shirt, You saw the subtle muscular definition of his abs, shifting about under smooth pale skin as he careless threw it at the side of his bed. You swallowed, trying to regulate your breathing and control the warm heat at the pit of your belly.

“What’s done is done. No amount of sulking will solve anything. We’ll all have to think of sorting this mess out tomorrow or something.” He snorted. “Definitely not looking forward to that.” He turned to you, pushing his hair off his face. Your eyes were glued to his bicep, contracting with the movement, and you involuntarily clenched.

“Come to bed. I have a loose shirt for you to wear,” he muttered, walking towards what you thought was his wardrobe. He pulled open one of the drawers, rummaging into it for a bit before slamming it shut with a loud slam and throwing a t-shirt at you. It landed on your face, and it smelt distinctly of him, fresh rainwater and sandalwood.

“Kylo, wait,” you said, rushing towards him as he roughly pulled the covers off his bed and begun sliding in. He sat in, making himself comfortable before turning to you, his face indifferent.

“I…I came to make you feel better. You’re so tense. I know you’re not very happy with what has been going on and Hux and everything, but please, just let me help you relax,” you said quietly, feeling the heat flood your face as you dropped your gaze and started fiddling with his shirt.

“Just let me go change first. Don’t fall asleep. I’ll be back out in a moment.”

You quickly walked into his refresher, and with shaking hands shedding your casual evening wear and pulling his t-shirt over your head. It was huge, one of the shoulders sliding down your own, the hem reaching the middle of your thighs. You were grabbing your own clothes, before a realisation hit you.

You had no panties on.

It was a normal thing for you: for as long as you remembered you’d cultivated a habit of never sleeping with panties. It was subconscious to you, having done it for most of your life, and you never thought about it as you walked toward his quarters. Now however…

You swallowed thickly, but you were already in too deep. You breathed out shakily and walked out, hoping that he wouldn’t realise that you had no goddamn underwear on and things would go smoothly.

You walked out of the refresher, dumping your clothes on one of the chairs next to his bar on the way to his bedroom. He was still seated the way you left him, and you scrambled on top of him, scooting over onto his muscular lap, straddling him and hoping you hadn’t accidentally flashed him in the process. Self-consciously, you tugged the t-shirt around your thighs.

You moved your hands onto his muscled shoulders, massaging deeply.  He let out a quiet moan, allowing his head to fall back on the headboard of his massive bed. Taking that as a positive sign, you continued kneading your fingers onto his shoulders, finding a particularly hard know on his right side, just over his collar bone. He moaned again in pleasure, slightly louder this time, eyes closed, full lips slightly parted.

“That…that’s amazing,” he breathed, his hands on your hips, before they moved down onto your thighs, his thumbs rubbing your skin there gently. You smiled, seeing him like this. His entire form was relaxed, enjoying the feel of your fingers on his shoulders, literally kneading the tension out of his neck and shoulders. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He reciprocated, moving his own mouth against yours, gently kissing you back.

Your hands slid down his torso, over his muscular pectorals onto his sleek abdomen, and his own hands moved upwards on your thighs, under his t-shirt, his thumb still massaging your skin gently, until he got to your pelvis before he abruptly stopped his ministrations, his whole body freezing.

Concerned, you pulled your lips off his, looking at him. Before you could open your mouth to ask what the matter was, he lifted his hips into your vagina, grinding hard into you. You gasped, catching a yelp in your throat when you felt his half-hard cock through his pants. His full lips curved into a smirk. He snapped his head forward, looking at you and holding your gaze, his normally brown eyes darkened considerably.

Oh boy.

“You have no panties on,” he murmured, his voice low, husky.

You dropped your head, your chin nearly hitting your chest, licking your lips nervously. Your face was _burning_ , and for the umpteenth time in the recent past you thanked The Fates for your skin colour.

Kylo shifted his hips upwards into you again, his dick considerably harder, thicker, as he grabbed your chin, lifting your head to look at him. You whimpered, taking a monumental amount of self-control not to grind yourself into him, not to pull his pants off and sink yourself onto him.

“You deliberately came in here, sat on my lap to massage my shoulders in nothing but my t-shirt and _expected_ me not to eventually realise that you were naked,” he continued, running his thumb across your jaw, his other hand slipping between your thighs.

You were getting wet real quick, and you knew he’d make you suffer for this.

You weren’t in the mood of suffering, particularly not under his hand, excuse the pun.

“I…well, I just, I normally sleep without underwear. I swear, I…I never intended to do any nasty things,” you paused. That didn’t come out right. “I mean, it’s not like there would be a problem if we’d sleep together, but that was not my intention. I just wanted to make you feel better,” you said quickly, looking everywhere but at him.

He let go of your chin, chuckling quietly to himself. “You’re phenomenal,” he whispered, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. He pulled you off his lap, onto his bed, before taking off his slacks, shifting his hips up and pulling them down his legs, throwing them off the edge of his bed.

He was completely naked now, pulling you back onto his lap, his cock straight and rigid, ready for you, precum already settled on the tip. “Go on then,” he muttered, looking at you. “Make me feel better. Make love to me.”

Well, he did ask nicely. Who were you to refuse a request from an incredibly sexy man to make love to him?

Simultaneously aroused and humiliated, you moved closer to him, giving yourself leverage by clutching his shoulders. You lifted yourself over his cock, directing the entrance of your vagina on his tip. The grip he had on your hips tightened, and he let out a low growl as you sunk onto his dick, the sound clashing terribly with your own mewl at him filling you completely.

It always surprised you how massive he was, completely stretching your walls over his throbbing cock, his entire length rubbing on your ridges, fucking you so deeply. You reached his base, literally sitting on him for a moment, giving yourself time for your walls to stretch around and accommodate him. He sunk his head on your shoulder, panting, his hot breath on your skin.

“So. Fucking. _Tight,_ ” he rumbled, his voice stiff with restraint not to just lift you up and fuck you sore. “So hot, so _wet,_ holy fuck you test my self-control every goddamn time.”

Was it just you, or were you literally getting slicker by his voice, his words, his _raw arousal and desire_ for you?

Biting your lip (and feeling your ego grow about three times), you slowly rose all the way until his tip, feeling him gasp roughly, before sinking down on him again, slowly, deliberately, relishing in his grip on you tightening, watching his muscles in his arms straining with his struggle to control himself.

It was _exhilarating_ watching him like this, his exertion manifesting itself in front of your very eyes as you pleasured him. At the same pace his hips started moving with you, most likely instinctively. As you sunk down he rose, and as you rose he retracted. A few strokes in he lifted his head, throwing it back on his headboard, groaning so deeply _you_ literally felt it on his body, eyebrows knitting together, eyes closed shut, lips parted and breathes leaving his mouth in short puffs. You moved your hands along his muscular torso, broad shoulders to his muscled chest to his sleek abdomen, over to his biceps and forearms, still riding him, keeping your pace slow and deep. He was somehow relaxed, but his body was hard from arousal. You smirked, using every ounce of control you ever had to keep your pace slow, completely and utterly enjoying the control, the ability to _torture him so._

From under you, his thighs were tightening, signalling he was going to unravel soon. Yes, you thought to yourself. He’d cum before you.

 _Never,_ he responded in your mind. God fucking dammit. You were so caught up in pleasuring him and drunk on your own control that you forgot the asshole could read minds. _Credit for trying, but you’re_ mine, _and as my personal whore you’re obligated to cum before me_ at. All. Times.

Your face heated up so fast that for a second you thought you had randomly caught a fever. You felt one of his hands snake in front of you, and you were helpless to stop it. He brushed the hood of your clit and your entire body trembled, almost making you lose your slow momentum on his dick. He pushed into your folds and rubbed your clit once, the pleasure so intense you only managed to bite your lip to stop the wail from leaving your mouth. He circled the little bundle of nerves repeatedly, keeping your pace slow, even, until your body gave out and your orgasm hit you like an electric train, as you allowed yourself to scream his name, coming undone on his cock.

He continued with his even pace, fucking you still through your orgasm, his thrusts harder, until he reached his own release, growling roughly and spilling his seed into you, hips jerking roughly. He pulled you off, settling you by his side as he sunk down onto the bed. You shifted slightly, folding yourself next to him, feeling his semen flowing between your thighs as you curled yourself to enjoy his body heat as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling the covers over both your naked forms as you allowed sleep to welcome you into its dark, secure hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear there wasn't supposed to be any porn in this chapter, but as I was doing my draft for Adventurous Lifetime that had porn in it and then the thirst hit me and well, yeah.
> 
> I'm not sorry. I don't regret anything. Y'all are already corrupt little devil spawn anyway. Isn't porn one of your biggest motivations for reading this story anyway? DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME!!


	11. Struggles

You were  _ not  _ in a good mood.

“Captain Cassidy,” General Hux growled out your name, uncharacteristic bitterness pouring out over those two words and filling his office with disdain. “It has come to my attention that you’re in a consistent sexual relationship with Ren.”

You could  _ hear  _ that sneering disrespect in his voice.

It was the day after you had... indulged Kylo. Needless to say, you had done your job: your aim was to go into his quarters and cheer him up, and you had succeeded. You had also received a fantastic fuck, and no one ever complains whenever they receive one of those.

The next morning, however, had not gone as well as you’d have liked. Generally, you weren’t a morning person, and being summoned into General Hux’s office to be lectured about your choice in sexual partners didn’t make matters any better. All you wanted to do was go to your workstation and do your job. Alas, someone somewhere couldn’t even allow you that, and this was not a good thing.

In fact, it irritated you. It irritated you a lot.

“Yes, sir. I am,” you responded, your own contempt hidden under a thin veil of snarky shade. It was so thin, in fact, that the prompt narrowing of the General’s green eyes made you well aware that he had heard it. 

He looked you up and down, looking for something to condescend over you. Luckily for you (not very much for him) you were dressed in your full pilot gear, your helmet in your right hand behind you, crossed under your left one.

“You are aware engaging in a sexual relationship with a superior is frowned upon in general professional circles?” he asked you again.

“I am sir. However, I won’t be the first and neither will I be the last. There are many personnel in the First Order who are engaging in sexual relationships with their superiors. I don’t see why my case should be exceptional because of my involvement with the Commander,” you responded, relaying through your words that you were not going to be up for this bullshit, in the  _ morning  _ no less.

“The Commander is exceptional because he is integral to the very core of the First Order,  _ Captain, _ ” he snapped at you through gritted teeth, finally losing his patience with you, and with it, his temper. “Distracting him will not be tolerated by the Supreme Leader. As a result, I will have to order you to cease this relationship immediately.”

You clenched your fists behind you. Who the  _ fuck  _ did he think he is, dictating what you did in your personal life? You breathed out, clenching your teeth, trying to calm yourself down.

“If you refuse,” he continued, as if reading your mind. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take this matter to the Supreme Leader himself. Perhaps a warning from him should get you back in check. Dismissed.”

You were biting down on your jaw so hard you were surprised you hadn’t chipped your teeth. You were so  _ enraged.  _ Someone had something to do with this. The General had been going through a lot the last couple of days, but he was never this unreasonable, no matter what the circumstances. Neither was he so interested in whoever Kylo was fucking in the past. In fact, it wasn’t lost on you that he had actually gone out of his way to clean up whatever messes the Commander had left behind when he decided it was time to start indiscriminately mashing his genitals with any adult living being on the  _ Finaliser  _ and Starkiller Base.  _ Suddenly,  _ there was an issue because Kylo had decided his penis had a preference of your vagina over anyone else’s bits? It didn’t make sense to you at all.

You were one hundred percent convinced that he had not just woken up this morning and decided that you fucking Kylo was suddenly a “distraction”. There was something else behind all this nonsense, and you would find out what it was by the end of the day. No one,  _ absolutely no one  _ got in the way of you getting dick. Not even General Hux.

_ Especially  _ if that dick was Commander Kylo Ren’s.

…

Your eyes narrowed at the chief engineer in front of you, who was trying as much as possible to shrink further and further into the ground away from your hard gaze. So far, it wasn’t working.

“Pray tell, chief engineer Peters,” you asked him softly, undertones of cold steel in your voice. “How the  _ fuck  _ is it my problem that you’re behind schedule with your repairs? Is that my job description?”

Chief engineer Peters found that his worn gloves were suddenly  much more fascinating than your current conversation.

“I believe I asked you a question, chief engineer,” you snarled. “You will either answer it or get out of my sight.”

“N-no, captain,” he stuttered, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed in his nervousness.

“Then why do you feel the need to tell me this information  _ now  _ when I had scheduled a test run of the new fighters? I had sent you a timetable of all scheduled flights, both recon and test flights, so you  _ knew  _ I and a couple of pilots would be leaving when this problem first arose, no?”

Chief Engineer Peters opened his mouth to say something, but he was lost for words, so he closed it instead.

“Well?” you snapped, having lost any and all patience you had stored up for the day.

“Th-there are some jets that have been repaired. I know it’s very inconveniencing and you have other things to do, but maybe you can swap around test run schedules and take the ones that have already been worked on? That should give us some time to finish up the repairs and then you can take them out as well,” the chief engineer babbled meekly, talking at one hundred miles a second. The poor man. You honestly didn’t mean to intimidate him, but it had been a long morning, and things were not getting any better by the looks of it.

You sighed pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. Swapping test runs meant swapping recon schedules. That meant changing not one, but  _ two  _ entire schedules, another couple of hours. After changing them you had to integrate them into the system, making sure everyone who needed this information was aware of the change. If General Hux was still in a bad mood, he’d demand a report wanting to know why schedules were being changed.

You had a feeling someone was sabotaging things to make your life a lot more difficult. Chief Engineer Peters and his squad was normally extremely competent, which is why he was the chief engineer. He was in charge of the Command Shuttle and all active duty TIE fighters. Things like this never happened when he was in charge. It didn’t make sense that suddenly there was a delay in the repairs of the jets.

You glanced up at the bridge.  Gnashing your teeth, you sat on your workstation and got to work, swapping out TIE fighter checks ups and repairs and rescheduling pilot recons before re-uploading them onto the system. If you finished this quickly, you could go and see if there was some information you could gather from up there to help you figure out this bullshit.

Two and a half hours later, you were finished with the cumbersome task of schedules and timetables. You grabbed your helmet, clipping it onto your hip and stomped your way over to the bridge. It was time to have a word (or multiple sharp exchanges) with Colonel Kaplan.

…

The colonel, predictably, looked at you like you had just declared your allegiance to the Republic.

“Captain, are you sure you’re alright?” he asked in a tone you’d never heard from him before, but there was definitely some disapproval in there.

“Never been better, sir,” you promptly responded, a lot more sarcasm than you’d have liked dripping from your voice.

He eyeballed you still, pursuing his thin lips even thinner into a straight line.

“May I ask, then, what makes you think that someone is deliberately sabotaging your work to make you look incompetent? Your feats for the First Order are known throughout your galaxy. In fact, dare I say, your reputation precedes you. I find it very difficult to believe that someone in the organisation is unhappy with what work you have done for us,” he said slowly, the combination of disbelief and disapproval in his voice.

You stared back at Colonel Kaplan, constantly mentally reminding yourself that patience is a virtue, and unlike Thanisson, the repercussions would be  _ very  _ dire if you lunged at him with intent to harm.

How in the stars’ name would you tell him someone was jealous of you fucking Kylo? Why is it always you that ended up landing in such goddamn situations?

“There have been uncharacteristic...mistakes going on that are connected to my general line of work, Colonel,” you begun. “For instance, this morning I was called into General Hux’s office to be given a lecture about how I should spend my free time, not to mention the fact that I had to change schedules of recon flights and flight tests because there were some delays going on in the engineering department. These are issues that have never happened before, and most of them are manufactured. It doesn’t make sense at all that these problems will just pop out of nowhere when we have never had them before.”

The Colonel still looked at you weirdly. You sighed. This day just seemed to be getting longer and longer.

Luckily, the Fates were on your side this time and your problem was somewhat solved for you in the form of Petty Officer Alexis. She walked in, straight past you and over to the Colonel and handed him a data pad. He skimmed over it, the creases on his face smoothing. Good news, perhaps, meaning that maybe he would give you the leads you needed to figure this nonsense out. This day was not ending before you figured out what was going on.

“Thank you, Petty Officer Alexis,” the Colonel murmured. “Also, Captain Cassidy seems to have some problems. Can you please help her find the information she wants so that she can leave me alone?”

You would have been offended by the Colonel’s disregard to your current plight (which was normal, considering you and he never got along very well. You were too lippy for his tastes apparently) but you noticed Petty Officer Alexis stiffen. The look she gave the Colonel was saccharine sweet, as if dripping with syrup but she suddenly changed into pure rage, her thin lips turned up in contempt. It took far more self-control than was necessary not to smirk. This was a good starting point. Perhaps you’d get to the bottom of this faster than you thought.

She turned around, her blonde hair swishing behind her. Knowing she wasn’t going to ask you to follow her, you did, still clenching your jaws together to stop the shit-eating grin that was threatening to split your face into two.

Petty Office Alexis was, to put it lightly, one of the laziest officers you had ever met. In fact, she was probably the most entitled individual in the entire First Order, and that was really quite a statement because so far, no one was more entitled than Kylo.

Kylo’s entitlement was at the very least, somewhat justified, though. He was a powerful Force-user, a very competent pilot and combatant and a Skywalker. All Alexis dearest had was blonde hair, green eyes, rich parents and conventional beauty standards. You wondered how she got to her position here and how the General and Kylo hadn’t caught on on her incompetence yet.

To be fair though, you realised a little later on after meeting her that Petty Officer Alexis was a very cunning and conniving little shit, a lot more intelligent than most most people gave her credit for. She was deceptively self-aware, knowing how her strengths and weaknesses could help her in most situations and working with them as and when necessary. People tended to underestimate her resourcefulness because they thought she was a dumb airhead, that good-for-nothing slut whose sole purpose was to sit on Petty Officer Thanisson’s cock. She was always at the right place at the right time, and she had a very persuasive tongue. She was also extremely manipulative and a very meticulous planner. She always covered her tracks, and as a result covered her incompetence. She always ensured others would do her work for her and she would then take the praise for it. She did such an excellent job of it, in fact, that the people that were doing her work for her were never even aware, thus not getting offended when she was praised for their efforts. You had seen many an administrative officer sent to either reconditioning or some remote outpost because they crossed her. Despite your own contempt for her, you could respect that, at the very least.

She also had a thing for Petty Officer Thanisson. You remembered no one on the  _ Finaliser  _ could breathe after he agreed to sleep with her. She took it upon herself to tell everyone who made the mistake of listening that she had achieved one of her lifelong dreams of ending up in bed with him. She especially found serious satisfaction when she came to gloat to you, how, in her words, she’d “had a piece of Thanisson and you hadn’t, and you never would because Thanisson was hers”. You wanted to tell her you didn’t give three and a half shits because you were never interested in him anyway, but you doubted she’d listen, so you just ignored her most of the time, an action which tended to irk her even more.

What made her abhor you the most, however, was your accomplishments as a pilot. She once asked you why you thought you were so special, and you just shrugged and told her that you were simply a TIE Fighter pilot. There really wasn’t any other thing, and you were right. All you were was a TIE Fighter pilot. Of course it helped that you were  _ fantastic  _ at your job, but really, at the end of the day that’s what it came down to. You were just a village brat that became a hella skilled TIE Fighter pilot.

Also you were Kylo Ren’s lover, but that wasn’t really the point right now, was it?

“What d’you want? Aren’t you supposed to be in trouble with General Hux?” she snarled at you, not even pretending to be subtle in her spite.

Bingo. “Am I?” you asked smoothly, crossing your arms around your chest.

She rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath. “Yes?” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and she was addressing a complete imbecile. “ _ I’m  _ the one that started the rumour that you were sleeping with the Commander and that you were proving to be a distraction to him so that the General could, I don’t know, demote you or something?”

Hmmm...this was interesting. Should you tell her that her “rumour” was actually fact?

It wasn’t in the General’s place to demote you, or any other TIE Fighter pilot for that matter. TIE Fighters were all pilots, and it was pretty obvious that pilots were to be under the direct command of someone who knew their way around flying and airspace. Who better than Commander Kylo Ren himself, an excellent a pilot in his own right. After all, his grandfather was known as, arguably, the best pilot in the galaxy in his time.

Petty Officer Alison, however, wasn’t high enough in the hierarchy to be aware of this, hence why she thought that you being called to the General’s office would result in you being demoted.

“Did you also sabotage the engineers’ rosters, delaying the repairs of the TIE Fighters which, in turn, delayed test runs of the new aircraft in a bid to make me look bad?” you asked gleefully, finally allowing yourself the biggest grin in a while.

While generally she remained unchanged, almost sneering, you could see the flicker of fear in those brilliant green eyes.

You chuckled. “You really went in, huh? What’s this all about this time? Is this because your lover boy is all up in my face again, because if it is I really respect the amount of pettiness that must have motivated you to go through all this to attempt to get me demoted.”

She actually  _ hissed  _ at you. For the sake of the skin on your face, you took a step backwards. This day had already been too much. Ending it with nail marks on your face was  _ not  _ how you intended it go.

“He’s  _ mine, _ ” she spat. “Keep the fuck off my man, bitch.”

You raised your hands in surrender. “Maybe you should remind him of that. I don’t ever remember inviting him in my life.”

Just then, your data pad beeped. It was General Hux.  The Supreme Leader wants a meeting with you. It’s about your involvement with Ren.

Everything around you was blurred, your legs nearly gave out on you, and you felt your throat go dry, your face losing all its colour according to your reflection on the smooth glass surface of your gadget. You couldn’t hear or see anything else other than the words in front of you.

This was going to be a true test to your existence.


	12. Insignificant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all probably don't give a fuck, but I was listening to No Church In The Wild by Kanye West ft Jay Z when I wrote this chapter.

You heard the boots, quick and hard on the shiny tiles, and you didn’t have to think too hard to know whose footsteps those were.

_ What the fuck was he doing here? _

You were standing outside the huge room where Supreme Leader Snoke apparently liased with General Hux and Kylo. You had never seen the Supreme Leader; in fact you weren’t even aware that he knew you existed, but he did now, and the prospect of meeting him terrified you. When the General informed you that you were to meet with him, Kylo immediately told you not to enter the room without him, that he would speak for you.

The only place Supreme Leader Snoke could be addressed was Starkiller Base, which meant that you had to take a TIE Fighter and fly over to the planet. You were given no more information, just the time and day you were to leave and given the name of the officer who was to lead you to your doom. (It turned out it was lieutenant Mitaka, who was taken there a few days prior to make preparations for your meeting).

You turned around to look behind you, watching Kylo approach you with his heavy, authoritative stride. He was standing straight, up to his full height, broad shoulders pulled back, but there was a stiffness to his general gait, a stiffness that you knew did not bode well in the future. He was royally pissed off, at what, you weren’t sure, and it’s not like you wanted to know. Even if you were aware that he wouldn’t deliberately hurt you at this point in time, his temper was still absolutely terrifying, and just because you’d established some kind of relationship with him did not diminish his volatility and questionable emotional and mental stability when he was in a rage.

You turned back to face the door, your impending doom. Kylo came to stand next to you, extremely close, your shoulder touching his bicep, also looking right at the massive double doors in front of you both. “Don’t speak to him unless he addresses you. Don’t lie to him, he’ll know and he’ll get into your head. He’s extremely powerful, and he won’t be gentle. Him getting into your mind means you’ll probably receive extreme psychological damage, which is going to be difficult to repair. Do not look at his face unless he personally tells you to. He’s quite...unorthodox looking. Instead, look either directly in front of you, or above you. No sassiness or snark, he doesn’t like that. Be subservient, meek. I know it’s difficult for you, but your main goal is to survive in there, and clap-backs won’t ensure your survival. Don’t be overwhelmed by terror. A little scared respect is fine. He feeds off extreme fear, making it easier for him to get into your head and manipulate you.”

His vocoded voice was indifferent, making you unable to discern any mood or emotion. He’d given you so many instructions, so much information to take in, you weren’t sure you’d be able to remember it all. You breathed out shakily, trying to calm yourself, but your fingers were already trembling. It had been  _ years  _ since your fear manifested itself physically, and just like then, you had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. It was never an emotion you were good at dealing with, and you hated it.

You felt a large, warm hand slide into yours, the leather of it rubbing against your own gloved hand. Kylo squeezed your hand gently, reassuringly.  **I’m here. I’m with you. Don’t worry. You’re the best fucking pilot in the First Order. You can get through this. I’ll help you get through this. I promise.**

Just as abruptly, he slipped his hand away from yours, clenching and unclenching his fist in that characteristic way of his. He deliberately mentally communicated to you those last words.

Was he trying to tell you something else? Was there a reason that he felt he’d reassure you without spoken word?

Either way, that was something you needed to think about later.

As you were still having your mental turmoil, Kylo raised his hand, and the massive durasteel doors groaned open into a massive room. It was dark, and there was a long corridor, about two kilometres that lead to a platform. The room was  _ frigid,  _ significantly colder than anywhere you’d ever been to.

This was  _ not  _ a pleasant place, and your first instinct was to  _ run.  _ Run and run far the fuck away.

Fear choked you. This was a terror that gripped you down to your very subconscious. You had never encountered anything that made you feel like this.  _ Nothing,  _ and that was saying a lot considering your profession _.  _ You still managed to swallow it down and walk with Kylo, down that long corridor, into the dark room, barely lighted by small, stray rays of light.

Together, both of you walked towards the platform. You noticed that Kylo had deliberately shortened his stride so that he doesn’t leave you behind and was walking next to you the entire time. He was deliberately keeping at your pace, and that action alone gave you far more strength than you’d have ever expected.

People said that Skywalkers were extraordinary, intense people. You could somewhat understand why.

You reached the platform and you stopped. You swallowed again, wanting to look around the place for Supreme Leader Snoke, but absolute terror wouldn’t allow you to move even a hair. 

Suddenly, you  _ heard  _ it. It was very faint, a cackling sound, a weirdly familiar sound, as if one of the console screens was coming to life. The air before you distorted slightly, then he suddenly appeared as if out of thin air. You clamped your jaw shut to keep your yelp in your chest where it belonged.

He (it? You weren’t particularly sure) was an absolutely massive holographic projection, possibly tens of feet above you. You stared directly ahead, what looked like a part of his throne at the periphery of your vision. You could literally  _ feel  _ his gaze, acute and piercing on your person, and it made your skin crawl.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, sounding somewhat amused. “Is this the pilot General Hux was telling me about? This is the individual that has... _ piqued  _ your interest, Ren?” he asked, his voice echoing all over the room.

There was nothing particularly harsh about it, in fact in better circumstances you could say that his voice was pleasant. However it was being projected by an amplifier of sorts, making it boom all over the enclosed space of this room, the echo bouncing off the walls making it more terrifying than it should be.

He sounded very calm, you could even say he was a little bit bored, derisive, as if his apprentice in a sexual relationship with a mere pilot was an inconvenience he didn’t want to deal with, but he just  _ had  _ to, because he had to be a responsible master.

Neither of you said anything. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears.

He seemed to lean back into his chair...throne...thingy. “You know Ren, I must applaud you for taste in your...partners. This is a strong one, mentally resilient, intelligent, self-aware and quite easy on the eye,” he muttered, as if giving a professional opinion on a piece of art.

Bile rose to your throat. Considering how dismissive he was being, you doubted he was very interested in you sexually. In fact you doubted he was even interested in you as a person, as an actual, living, breathing being. He was simply giving his opinion of you, just the way he saw you before him.

That is what terrified you the most in this particular situation, because your instincts had been screaming blue murder that this was not going to go very well for you in the future. You were a TIE Fighter Pilot, you  _ always  _ trusted your instinct without fail.

“Generally, I would disapprove at whatever arrangement you have in this little girl, as the general does raise a valid point: she will prove to be a distraction, a  _ weakness,  _ because your enemies will eventually find out about her. They’ll know you care for her, hold her in high regard, and they’ll come for her, in an attempt to get to you. You might be tempted to stop your work to come and protect her, and that, my dear apprentice, would not do, now would it?”

You stood, frozen in place. You wondered if even your bodily functions were working. You wondered if you had actually gone into shock.

You heard Kylo’s voice, but it was like it was far away, from a distance. “Supreme Leader she’s a very competent pilot. She’s strong enough to protect herself and she is intelligent enough not to deliberately put herself in a position where her general well being will be compromised. She understands my priorities are only to you and the First Order, and she wouldn’t dare distract me from my own missions,” he said slowly, timidly. He sounded as if he was trying to request him to approve of you.

“Is that so?” That didn’t sound like approval in the least.

This was it, you thought to yourself. This was your end. You had served the First order well, but it seems you were deemed a distraction because you may have been developing unwanted feelings toward Commander Kylo Ren.

“In that case perhaps we can come to a compromise, Ren.”

Extreme silence.

“You may continue your relationship with her,  _ on condition that  _ you impregnate her within a reasonable time.”

What?  _ What? _

You heard Kylo sigh quietly through his helmet, but even then he still stared up at his master, not daring to look away.

“If not, then I’m afraid we’ll have to get rid of her.”

Despite your terror, the implications here were  _ absolutely  _ clear.

Your knees felt week, and as the seconds ticked by you found the action of standing up to be more and more difficult. Your mind was going dull, and you weren’t even aware if Kylo and the Supreme Leader were still conversing. Your brain was having a very hard time trying to comprehend what you’d just heard, and going by the slow shut down it was going through, it seemed like your cognitive capacities had refused to comprehend this information.

Suddenly you heard Kylo’s boots click on the tiles, and that sound registered movement, which meant the conversation was over and you had to leave. As if on autopilot, you turned around yourself and started taking that long corridor back to the massive durasteel doors, nearly unconscious to your surroundings, to yourself, back out to the rest of Starkiller Base, back  out to  _ freedom _ .

Your weakened legs barely managed to lead you to the outside, and your vision begun failing you as you succumbed into darkness.

…

You woke up with a start, sweaty and still scared. You looked around quickly at the grey ceiling above you, panting slightly, before you managed to rise up and take your surroundings better. You were in a room, minimalistic but simultaneously luxurious.

These were obviously Kylo’s quarters, but this wasn’t on the  _ Finaliser.  _ You’d spent enough nights in his bed on that great ship to know exactly what it looked like. Meaning you were on Starkiller Base. You had come here to meet with Supreme Leader Snoke, and you were so overwhelmed at what had transpired there that you fainted.

Your hands reached over to your hair, and you realised that you had plats on. Four large cornrows, and had it not been the impending panic you were feeling you’d have smiled, albeit sadly. The last time you had cornrows was was when your parents were still alive, before you even joined this organisation.

So it wasn’t a nightmare. This was actual real life. The Supreme Leader wanted to be impregnated by Kylo Ren after a reasonable time, or you’d be eliminated.

Throughout your time in the First Order, you knew you were expendable. It was might or nothing; you either proved yourself or you were gotten rid of. There was no room for mediocrity. Your former Captain Eric’s unfortunate demise reinforced that lesson to you very clearly.

It however seemed that you’d sort of...forgotten this. You’d gotten involved with Kylo Ren, arguably one of the most powerful individuals in the galaxy currently alive and you thought you were untouchable. You thought you were secure from anyone and anything. Then General Hux promptly reminded you that you were wrong, that there was someone more powerful than Commander Ren, someone that even the mighty Master of the Knights of Ren, a  _ Skywalker,  _ answered to, and that...being had ordered you to pop Kylo Ren’s progeny out or your life would be snuffed out like the  _ insignificant  _ Captain of the First Order TIE Fighter Pilots that you were.

In a matter of hours you’d be gone. Poof! Just like that. The way Captain Eric was ended. Everyone would forget about you, your achievements, your legacy and carry on with their lives, working on for the First Order, almost oblivious to the war against the Republic, the Force, the Light Side and the Dark Side.

You were  _ that  _ insignificant.

You didn’t realise it at first, until you saw it on your trembling hands. There were droplets of a clear liquid, and you weren’t quite sure where they came from. You reached out to your face to touch your cheeks, and it was then that you realised you were crying.

You didn’t hold back. You covered your face and sobbed, your shoulders heaving with the effort. You wanted to scream, to wail, but you  _ couldn’t.  _ You just didn’t have the strength to, physical or emotional. You were just so hungry and so tired, so all out  _ exhausted,  _ that the only thing you could allow yourself to do was to cry. You were slightly surprised at first. The last time you actively cried was when you came back to your home, or more specifically what was left of it, ashes of your residence and your parents.

And so you did. You didn’t know how long you just sat in Kylo’s bed, crying your eyeballs out before you were engulfed in warmth. Powerful arms wrapped around you, and a large body covered and held you. You removed your hands from your face, streaking mucous, saliva and tears all over before clutching the layers upon layers of black, thick robes. You leaned your cheek on a broad, muscular chest, and the strong arms around you tightened, pulling you closer into a broad, muscular torso.

It was then that you realised you were in Kylo’s arms, and he was holding you close to him, comforting you with the presence of his person the exact same way you held and comforted him that evening in his quarters in the Finaliser.

After a while, you quieted down, your sobs going to quiet whimpers, before finally silence. You were spent, but Kylo nonetheless pulled you from his embrace and you regretted the lack of warmth.

“Let me get you a towel to clean your face. There’s going to be a droid that’ll bring you food in a moment. Eat and then sleep. Tomorrow we’ll deal with...everything,” he said gently, giving you such a tender look you almost started crying again.

“I...can I just shower?” you asked, wincing at hearing your own voice, hoarse from all the crying.

“Of course,” he replied, nodding. He helped you out of bed, and left to go to his wardrobe as you stripped down. He came back with a huge towel and handed it to you. You tied it around yourself , under your armpits and allowed him to take your hand and lead you into the refresher. He even gave you a shower cap for your hair, and you smiled at him. It was really sweet, since he didn’t need them for his hair but he kept them anyway.

You came out of the shower some minutes later and saw a large grey t-shirt on the bed for you, and a steaming plate of food on a tray next to the bed. You settled down to eat as Kylo took himself to the refresher for his own shower, and he came out when you were settling into bed, ready to call it a day.

You were closing your eyes, before you felt Kylo slip into bed behind you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him, your back against his chest, and you found yourself falling asleep. Kylo was here with you. You’d work something out.

Things would work out. Things always worked out.


	13. Irritations of the Past Vol II

You woke up again but this time calmer. You looked around, alert and attentive, and you came to the conclusion that Kylo wasn’t in the room. You stretched, making little sounds of relief, before breathing out and thinking about your next course of action.

Logically, you should have been making arrangements of going back to the _Finaliser,_ but you still had to talk to Kylo. You reached for your datapad and sent him a message, asked him if he could come in and talk to you as soon as his duties could allow him, for you were awake now, then sent another message to Lieutenant Mitaka (was he even _still_ on Starkiller Base?) asking if there was anything else you needed to do before leaving. If not you wanted to leave as soon as possible, as you actually had work to do onboard the _Finaliser._

Soon enough, Kylo appeared in his quarters. He probably read your message first then. He found you in his room, bending and peering under his bed looking for your boots.

“How are you doing, little one?” he asked, peering at you with a wry smile as you pattered around his room, frowning slightly because you couldn’t find your goddamn boots.

“I’m doing alright, though for some reason my shoes have disappeared into the void,” you grumbled, before deciding to give up and slowly pace to where he was and sit in front of him. “We need to talk, Kylo. About...you know, what Supreme Leader Snoke said. There’s some stuff I need to clarify with you.”

You noticed him stiffen, and you frowned. From when you started sleeping together, you noticed he was never very good at processing his emotions. He never liked to talk about them, preferring instead to ignore them. This, however, wasn’t a situation that could be ignored.

You sighed, not knowing where to start. “I...what Supreme Leader Snoke said, I don’t...I’m not sure...like,” another sigh. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. If we go through with it, it’s not going to end well, for any party involved,” you managed, finding it a lot more difficult to communicate with him, something you never struggled with in the past.

Kylo still said nothing, his stature belaying how stiff and uncomfortable he was with the whole conversation, body hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, hair shadowing his face, so you continued anyway.

“I don’t want to have a child, at least not now. I’m not emotionally ready to dedicate my life to a child. It takes a lot of time, effort and commitment to take care of a child, and that’s not time, effort and commitment I’m willing to invest in at this point in time. I’m still dealing with my own issues, on top of our...whatever the fuck we have going on between us,” you finished, slowly getting irritated at his lack of response.

“Please, Kylo, tell the Supreme Leader that I can’t conceive. At least not now or anytime in the near future. It’s really not happening,” you finished, looking at him, waiting for him to say something, _anything._

He looked up at you, and his body language communicated pure fury. His brow was knitted hard, his eyebrows nearly touching each other. His eyes were narrowed at you, his normally intense gaze now literally piercing. His nose was flaring and his jaw clenched,  those full, pink lips that normally did sheer magic on your body were pursed, the muscle on his jaw ticking on occasion.

You had never seen Kylo’s temper written all over his face, since when it normally engulfed him he had his helmet on, but now you could. It was written all over his face, all over his body, and it felt as though he was projecting it all over the room with the Force, as you suddenly felt stifled.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that,” he said flatly. “The Supreme Leader is wise. He has his reasons for demanding you conceive my child. It doesn’t have to happen now, but it has to happen sometime.”

You stared at him, dumbstruck. _Excuse me,_ you thought to yourself, actually shocked.

“So you’re just going to go ahead with it?”

“It’s for the best if the Supreme Leader deems so.”

All you could do was open and close your mouth like a fish outside water. You were so _angry,_ so infuriated that he would just completely disregard your (and possibly )his own feelings on this matter because ‘the Supreme Leader is wise’. The fucking _Supreme Leader_ was not the one that was going to be dealing with pregnancy and subsequent raising of a child. How the fuck did you know what intentions this Supreme Leader Snoke...being had with a child he demanded you have, _your child?_

“Why?” That was all that you could manage, the one word having the hundreds of questions you couldn’t put in words in it.

“Because that’s what the Supreme Leader wants,” Kylo responded stiffly through gritted teeth. He was clearly getting irritated with you questioning his master’s motives. “Why are you so adamant? Why are you just questioning everything? Can’t you just do as you’re told?”

It was now your turn to be angry.

“I’m not used to my autonomy being taken away from me,” you ground out, a mixture of betrayal and anger in your voice. “I cannot just have some creep from the Dark Side hells just come and outright _demand_ I pop babies without my consultation or approval for his own agenda. I’m not gonna do that, Kylo, not even for you. It’s _my_ child, that I’ll be carrying in _my_ body. If I’m gonna have to die for it then fine. After all, I’m just but an _inconsequential pilot_ , disposable by the First Order.” You were so bitter, so sad, so angry, there was nothing in any language that could express it.

The last time you felt this betrayed was when you got back home to see your home in ashes.

You never even thought twice. Feeling your eyes tearing, you stood up, barefoot and walked out. You left him sitting there, in his quarters and left to go to the hangar. You were going back to the _Finaliser._ You didn’t want to deal with this, not now, not ever.

Finally, you fumed to yourself as you attempted to navigate yourself around the goddamned planet, you were _not_ conceiving a child, even if it meant you’d end up dying, then so be it. You weren’t going to risk your mental and emotional well-being just because some weirdo freak from God-knows-where demanded it.

…

It had been a longer than normal flight from Starkiller Base to the _Finaliser._ The lieutenant had already left for the Resurgent class destroyer, but he had been polite enough to make arrangements for your own flight back. One of the pilots stationed on planet had managed to find a pair of boots that fit you, and throughout your journey you had ample time to contemplate of what had become of your life, particularly in the recent past.

For the second time in a very short time span, you found yourself extremely disappointed in the leadership of your organisation. First of all one leader was willing to commit pointless, cold-blooded murder, a massacre of millions of people just to prove a point and to show off his new weapon, (not to mention become unnecessarily unreasonable when it came to paying attention to unnecessary rumours, but that was besides the point) and the second leader was willing to blindly follow whatever his leader told him without any consequence or forethought to the results.

This wasn’t the organisation you joined just over a decade ago. Or was it and you weren’t aware of upper administration until now?

Furiously, you wiped the tears from your eyes. Hopefully with time, Kylo could allow you to change his mind. You just needed some time, both of you.

You arrived onto the _Finaliser_ , and the first thing you did was walk straight towards your workstation. You spotted General Hux on the bridge as you landed on the hangar, but you just weren’t in the mood of dealing with him or his shit, so you decided that it would be a good idea to just go and throw yourself into your own work. You needed to check out if the TIE Fighters were being repaired as per the schedule and which pilots were going on test runs and which ones were up on recon.

As if the Fates were not done making your life as miserable as they could, you saw Petty Officer Thanisson, the bane of your existence at your desk, with a bouquet of flowers and a large bar of chocolate, lascivious smile on his face. What the fuck was real life, honestly?

You pinched the bridge of your nose with a thumb and forefinger to release at some of the frustration that had been building up there over a period of time. You really didn’t think you had the mental and emotional resources to deal with him, so you opted to ignore him instead. You walked straight to your desk, removing that atrocious bouquet and throwing the chocolate on someone else’s desk. You settled down and opened the holo screens in front of you, with you holopad next to you and you started to have a look at the schedules of flights, test runs and recons, and which pilots were currently free and the status of all grounded jets.

Thanisson still stood next to you. “It’s rather rude to ignore someone when they’re standing right next to you at your workstation, you know.” he murmured, his voice low and husky, that wickedness that you heard the last time you interacted with him still there. “What if I had something important to tell you?”

You still ignored him, responding to a message down at engineering concerning the check ups on your jet.

You felt his fingers ghost on the back of your neck, before he moved them slowly to the side. It took all the control you have ever possessed not to even budge. It was such an effort for you not to shudder away in disgust. You knew exactly what he was trying to accomplish with that move, but ironically, it accomplished the exact opposite.

“Or do you feel now that you’re sucking the Commander’s cock it’s beneath you to interact with the rest of us mere First Order employees?”

Ah, a different tactic, then. Thanisson was always an attention whore.

The room seemed to pause, and it felt like time was going in slow motion. You felt multiple gazes on you. Ah, it seemed your friend Alexis had taken it upon herself to spread the “rumour” as far and wide as she could. You sighed internally. If she actually spent as much time doing her bloody job as she did spreading questionable rumours, then maybe people would stop questioning her credibility on her aforementioned job.

Back to Thanisson, the current nuisance trying to worm his way back into your life. There was something in his voice when he said that statement. You turned to him, making sure to raise an eyebrow at him. Was that _jealousy_ you heard?

You swivelled your chair so that your whole body actually faced him. You crossed your legs, your left on top of your right, and placed your right elbow on your knee, palm holding up your chin as your left arm hang loosely on your thigh. You leaned forward slightly, allowing yourself a small smirk of amusement, your body language communicating mockery.

“Do you seem to have a problem with me sucking the Commander’s cock, Thanisson?” you asked sweetly. He still managed to keep his smile on his face, but his eyes were narrowed at you. “Would you like to do it yourself? I doubt he’d mind, really. I mean, he’d be getting free head after all, and who complains when they’re getting free head.”

There was somewhat of an awkward silence in the working space, though from the corner of your eye you saw some of your pilots struggling not to smile. Amelia was pretending to drink her tea, but you could see the mirth in her eyes.

“I - and quite a number of people both here and on Starkiller can testify - can assure you that he’s got a pretty impressive cock too. I’m sure you’d really enjoy yourself with your saliva drooling all over it as he fills your mouth, his thick cum flowing down your throat. Perhaps you’d much prefer if he shoved it up your ass, hmm? Maybe it would push the stick you stuck up there all those years ago out your mouth.”

Amelia actually choked on her tea as she snorted, some of it coming out of her nose.

You saw his hand tightening against the edge of your desk, his short nails scraping the wood. Seems like you had touched a nerve. Or thirty.

“Is that why you feel you’re better than me now? Just because you’re fucking him you think you’re beyond my attention?” he started, his voice beginning to rise, both in pitch and in volume.

You uncrossed your legs, and stood up, facing him. He was about two or three inches taller than you, but he was a bit on the leaner side, nothing too intimidating that you couldn’t handle. Plus you were a TIE Fighter Pilot. You had some musculature about you, being an active combatant for the First Order.

“Listen here, _Petty Officer Thanisson,_ ” you hissed. “I thought I made this clear to you before, but it seems your ability to comprehend things is skewed. Let me reiterate: I’m not interested in you. I was never interested in you and I’ll never be interested in you. I don’t want anything to do with you, because apparently you have a huge problem with rejection. Fuck off and leave me alone. You have a willing pussy in your colleague Alexis over there,” you pointed to the general direction of the bridge, where they both worked. “Why can’t you take what you get and leave me alone? My sex life is none of your goddamn business, because you’re not involved in it, okay? If you come back to workplace one more time I’m reporting your fuckboy ass to General hux. It’s been a very difficult week and I’m _NOT_ in the mood.”

You finished by jabbing your finger on his chest painfully, and when you looked up to his face his brown eyes had darkened considerably, and they were wild, His nostrils were flared and he was clenching his jaw, as if he was deliberately preventing himself from saying something. Suddenly he sighed slowly, closing his eyes, as if he was relishing in some sort of tension his body had released, then he looked back at you, not even bothering to be subtle with his lust.

“You’re so sexy when you’re mad. I want nothing more than to fuck that bad temper out of you,” he whispered. Your lip curled in disgust, and you wanted to move back and give him a huge chunk of your mind, but _clearly_ he got off on that, the freak.

Instead, you turned back to your chair, sat down and got back to work. As you were still settling down to continue where you left off, your datapad beeped.

The bridge. Now.

You leaned forward, massaging your temples. You breathed out, before opening your drawer and pulling out your trusty afro comb, sticking it in the middle of your afro. You had a feeling you’d need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took as long as it did. It's been a difficult past week for me mentally and emotionally and it was kinda hard to write anything because holy shit life sucks. I've probably projected some of that in this chapter, but here you go. It's a little shorter, just a tiny bit, because of aforementioned issues, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.


	14. Trouble

You went up to the bridge, into one of the conference rooms near the open space itself, and you found Captain Phasma, Lieutenant Mitaka, Kylo (whom you hadn’t seen or spoken to since your arrival from Starkiller Base) and General Hux. This most likely meant a meeting with the Adari Leaders. You sighed internally. Mentally, you weren’t in the mood for political or administrative meetings. Emotionally, you were even worse off, angered by Fuckboy Extraordinaire and upset by the Dark and Broody Knight. You weren’t in a position to undertake activities that involved critical thinking and important decision making, at this point in time since, naturally your judgement would be heavily clouded, and that wouldn’t work out very well for you if shit hit the fan.

Which it was going to soon. You could feel it in your bones, fighter pilot instinct and what not.

Right on cue, the holovideo of Elder Sheeva and the other Adari elders connected, automatically coming on. “General Hux, Commander Ren,” he muttered to them, inclining his head slightly. He was generally very indifferent, making it difficult to gauge his mood, but this time he seemed a lot more at ease than he normally was. Hopefully it was good news. Considering the past couple of days, you (The First Order, generally, but  _ you  _ in particular) were in desperate need for good news.

“I have some good news today, long overdue, I believe.”

No one said anything. You didn’t move even a hair, but from the corner of your eye you saw the lieutenant struggle to contain the very tiny tug at the left corner of his mouth.

“The hard work of our spies has finally paid off. We may have an idea of where the Republic has hidden their fleet and the senators sympathetic to the Resistance and General Organa their credits,” he continued, looking tentatively between the General and Kylo. Neither of them had said anything or made any movement whatsoever, and that in itself tended to be a scary prospect.

“The Republic Fleet is situated in the Naboo System. We are not sure on which planet exactly, or even if it is stationed on one planet or on all of them, but we know for a fact that the fleet is there. They broke the entire armada into smaller cohorts, making it easier to hide in a sense. Some of them inform us that they were never, in fact, actually hidden. It was right in front of us, but because it was in a way that we could not recognise as the Republican Fleet, seeing as they were much smaller groups, we ignored it, so to speak.”

The tension was stretched razor thin, any wrong thing said or done resulting either in a destroyed room, or someone ending up in reconditioning, or even worse, both.

“Thank you very much for the information, Elder Sheeva,” General Hux begun, his voice steady, his face twisted in that patented scowl of his. “Commander Ren and I will assign a TIE Fighter squadron to go have a better look, and then the moment we are able to confirm your report, we will get back to you on our next course of action. On behalf of the First Order and Supreme Leader Snoke, Ren and I would like to take this chance to relay our utmost gratitude to you and your network of spies. We shall see to it that you are rewarded substantially.”

He seemed very calm, collected, the General Hux you were all used to hearing. Kylo, however, hadn’t said anything until this point. The General turned to look at Kylo slightly, before facing you.

“Captain Cassidy,” he conveyed to you. “Organise a squadron, led by yourself and go out to the Naboo system and verify those reports. I want as much detail as possible from you and your pilots before Ren and I decide what we are going to tell the Supreme Leader. We need to completely and totally annihilate the Resistance, and the only way to do that is to slowly crush their hopes by destroying their allies before we swoop down and get rid of them.”

He sounded a lot more stiff than normal. Nevertheless, you nodded once, and turned around to leave the room to organise for the recon. It was getting very awkward for you. You doubted anyone knew of the little spat you had with Kylo at Starkiller base, but you didn’t want anyone to question anything, and you thought if you left to go to work, no one would disturb you. Everyone knew you weren’t one for small talk, particularly when you had things to do.

“How long will the reconnaissance take?”

“A fortnight, sir, including travelling time to and from the system itself from here.”

Silence.

“Are the pilots going to be from Starkiller Base or the  _ Finaliser?” _

You swallowed. “I’m sorry sir, I can’t give you a definitive answer to that. I have to go check rosters of the pilots and the availability of jets first, assign the roles and then give you the most accurate answer to that question.

General Hux narrowed his cold, blue eyes at you.

“How long will that take?” he asked quietly, slowly losing his temper.

You breathed out slowly. It seemed he was still frustrated.

“By the end of working hours tomorrow sir.”

More tense silence.

“Go then.”

You literally almost bolted out of the room, before Kylo stopped you.

“Wait one minute,” he said, the distorted voice of his vocoder sounding indifferent, as if the information you’d been sharing the past half hour or so had just sunk in. You stopped dead in your tracks, turning around to face them both. “Don’t go yourself. Send your immediate deputy. There is something I’d like to discuss with you about the jets and the pilots, and I’d like to do it as soon as possible. You leaving to go on this reconnaissance mission will delay this discussion.”

There was something going on here, and you didn’t like it.

Slowly, you turned your gaze over to the General. His face was schooled into smooth indifference, but you saw it, quick and subtle. It had disappeared as fast as it had appeared. He had clenched his jaw, the muscle there tensing for just about a millisecond, physically expressing his displeasure at his orders being amended, for, most likely, a reason he’ll never be given.

Nevertheless, he nodded once, brusquely, before promptly turning back to Kylo. “Lieutenant, Captain,” he turned his attention of Lieutenant mitaka and Captain Phasma. “Make adequate preparations for logistics and movement of Stormtroopers to the Naboo System. We just might need them for when the pilots come back from their recon mission.”

His voice was dying out, as you walked briskly, almost breaking into a trot towards your working space again. It was going to be a late night working today, and an early morning tomorrow if you were to find out the situations about the pilots and jets, come up with a respectable roster, and see if there would need to be any liaisons between Starkiller Base and the Star Destroyer. It was not looking like it was going to be a fun twenty four hours, but you’re the one that had signed up for this shit all those months ago when you accepted the promotion to Captain, so you had no one to blame but yourself.

You wanted to say this being a captain thing had caught the Commander’s attention, leading you straight to his bed, but you doubted it. Your achievements spoke for themselves. There was a very high chance that sooner rather than later you’d end up in his bed regardless, and you still weren’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

You were just getting to your working space when your data pad beeped. You stopped, sighed dramatically and rolled your eyes so far at the back of your head you could see the folds of your brain, then actually looked at the damn thing to see what the problem was  _ now. _

Apparently the General wanted to see you. Again. Something he wanted to  _ discuss.  _ In his office. With Commander Ren. Honestly, you were  _ not  _ being paid enough for this shit.

Oh boy.

…

You quite weren’t sure how to describe the atmosphere when you arrived at the General’s office. It’s wasn’t antagonistic or scary. You could even say it was slightly comfortable.

You could say, in fact that the room was  _ overflowing  _ with sarcastic snark, something both the Commander and the General were very,  _ very  _ good at. Very many times you and other officials had approached them when they were throwing snide and underhanded barbs at each other. This was one such time.

You could see it in their body language: both were somewhat relaxed (well, as relaxed as they could get anyway. You strongly doubted the General had ever been relaxed in his entire life. Could he even spell the word?), but they were looking at each other with their chins raised, over their noses. You couldn’t see Kylo’s face because of his mask, but you were willing to bet your month’s salary that like General Hux, he was sneering.

You internally sighed. You expected quite a number of situations to greet you when you walked into this office, this was  _ most  _ definitely not one of them.

“You called, sir?” you asked the General, wanting to finish as fast as possible and leave them to their insults.

The General turned his head slowly towards you, as if not acknowledging the Commander’s presence at all, an almost impossible feat, considering how imposing he generally was.

“How did your...discussion with the Supreme Leader as far as your relationship with Ren is concerned?”

You schooled your face into indifferent shade, though you could feel your eyes narrowing. What was the purpose of him having this conversation with you? Did he want to gloat? Why did he have to call you and ask you about it? Couldn’t he just ask Kylo? Why was he making it any of his business anyway?

“Nothing of import concerning you, General,” you chose to answer calmly, intentionally being vague. He looked at you, those cold eyes piercing. You returned his gaze steadily. You could literally feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him.

“I take it he came up with an order that displeased you?” He was almost gloating.  _ Almost. _

As it were, you were  _ not  _ in the mood of being diplomatic, mature or an adult. You were mentally and emotionally drained, and if General Hux wanted to be petty, he would realise that you were the  _ queen  _ of petty. After all, petty was your default state.

“Actually, General Hux, he came up with an  _ order _ that’s none of your fucking business. Why, in fact, you choose to include yourself in my personal relationships is beyond me, quite frankly. You don’t see me coming to bother you when you’re bending every other new administrative assistant over your desk after working hours to take out your stress, why should you be so concerned with the fact that I’m sleeping with Kylo? At the end of the day, I get my work done. I doubt the same can be said about the multiple assistants you go through faster than your stormtroopers pass through the medic bay,” you said flatly, crossing your arms over your chest. You felt your eyebrow lift, looking at him,  _ daring him  _ to contradict you, or say anything to you for that matter.

Kylo whistled lowly under his helmet, the sound coming out low and weird, but you got what he was trying to communicate. The General was literally gnashing his teeth, his face and ears beginning to redden.

“To be fair, you did ask for it, General. What were you expecting. She’s a TIE Fighter pilot. You wouldn’t expect courtesy to be her strongest suite.” Kylo murmured slowly.

You could have been offended, because your late parents parents brought you up much better, but you were busy glaring at the General, waiting for him to say something to you.

“That’s why,” General Hux grit out through clenched teeth, the words barely leaving his lips. “We send them to reconditioning, and they still come out as rude little shits.”

“Quite rich coming from you, General, and whether you want to admit it or not, she’s right. She never questions all those fresh recruits you fuck, why should you question who she chooses to bless with her warm, wet, ti-”

“ _ Kylo. Ren.”  _ You were wondering if he still enamel left on his teeth with how hard he was gnashing them together.

Kylo just shrugged. You turned to him, as he was, technically, your commanding officer.

“Permission to leave, Commander.”

“Permission granted, Captain.” He sounded amused.

You turned back to the General, inclined your head slightly, before taking your leave.

…

It was a good thing you didn’t have your personal blaster near you, also that there was no blaster (or any other weapon, actually) lying around in your near vicinity, because if there was you weren’t sure if one  _ Petty Officer Thanisson  _ would be alive at the moment.

This time, he had gone too far. He had actually  _ sat  _ on your chair, leaning over your desk. His arms were crossed under your aforementioned desk, and when you looked at his face, his facial expression seemed to be that of total bliss. In fact, it wouldn’t be far off to conclude that he was consumed in complete ecstasy.

Even through your anger, your mind was still rationalising, and the conclusions that it came to weren’t particularly pleasant. As realisation dawned on you, your features went from pure resentment to pure horror.

Oh no, no,no. He was  _ not.  _ He wouldn’t  _ dare. _

Except he could, and he  _ was.  _ The way his arms were moving under the desk, his heavy breathing, spaced by the occasional gasp, his slight moans that he was trying to hide, the sweat on his brow, the pleasure on his face and most importantly, your helmet right in front of your face, the one thing that he seemed to be paying attention to…

It all added up to a vile conclusion: Petty Officer Thannisson was jerking himself off, on  _ your  _ workstation to you.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, so disgusted, horrified and angered at the same time. He never even bothered to be ashamed when he turned to you, the head of his cock peeking out from the fly of his pants, red and flushed, a thick, sticky, whitish liquid on his hands.

In fact, he had the very nerve to  _ smirk  _ at you.

Your brain drew a blank. What in the stars’ name…?

“Captain Cassidy,” a voice said in the darkness that was the entrance of your collective workstations, a deep, synthesised voice. You swallowed thickly.

“Ky-C-Commander Ren, I swear, this is not what it looks like. I swear I haven’t done anything. I just walked in and Petty Officer Thanisson was on my chair in this...uh, compromised state. I-I-I...would never even th-”

Your mouth suddenly slammed shut, the force making your head ring a little bit. Kylo walked into where you and your pilots worked when you weren’t flying, his boots clicking on the floor. He regarded you for a moment through his helmet, before slowly turning his attention to the current dickward s _ till  _ sitting on your chair, still with his dick peeking from his fly, still with his cum all over his hands and aforementioned pants, his face redder than General Hux’s hair, and he was trembling slightly.

You could have laughed at him if you weren’t thinking about all the ways the Commander’s lightsaber would slice through your soft flesh. You hoped he’s at least not singe your hair. You took a lot of pride in maintaining your afro. If Kylo’s shitty-ass lightsabre went anywhere near it you’d haunt him for the rest of his days, honestly. And it would be even worse because you’d be a ghost with shitty-ass hair.

He turned to the large holoscreen at the front of the room, ignoring your terror and fuckboy’s embarrassment. He pulled up the schedule you were supposed to be working on for the General of the pilots and the jets.

“Take a seat, Captain,” he said, motioning you towards the wide array of chairs in the room. Nervously, you scooted to a chair, far from Thanisson, but not too close to Kylo either.

“I want to recommend the pilots you should assign to this mission, though you have discretion to change them around a little bit as you see fit, seeing as you know them best,” he continued, and for a moment you calmed down, your brain settling back into work mode. You’s even forgotten about Thanisson, seating there awkwardly, not allowed to leave now that a superior officer was there.

You were listening to Kylo, who, in an extremely rare show of philanthropy, was actually assisting you in your job, before you felt it. It was a soft sensation at first, down in your vagina, brushing over your folds. You furrowed your brows, slightly tightening your thighs together, trying to ignore the sensation. Suddenly, the light, ghosting sensation hardened, taking the shape of fingers, two fingers; long, thick, gloved fingers, brushing your folds with more pressure each passing second, getting you wetter and wetter. Your eyes widened slightly the second you realised what was happening, and you swallowed thickly.

Suddenly, the ghost fingers, both of them,  _ simultaneously _ pushed up into you, and it took a monumental amount of self-control not to cry out. You gasped sharply, before biting your lower lip and breathing in through your nose. The fingers pumped in and out, slowly, deliberately out of you. You felt two pairs of eyes on you, and you remembered that bloody dick was still there. Goddamit.

“Are you alright, Captain?” Kylo asked. You half glared at him. How  _ dare  _ he, the piece of shit. He moved harder, faster, and you felt a pressure, a spring coil at the bottom of your stomach begin to compress, tightening and leading you to release. You forced yourself to stay still, to not fidget and to keep your hands at your side, not to slip them in between your legs and touch your clit. You were almost trembling in your seat, biting down your moans as Kylo used the force to finger your pussy, which at this point was so wet you wondered whether you’d actually leaked through.

The Force extended to your clit, brushing against the hood, and you couldn’t help it. You looked down at your lap, closing your eyes tight, whimpering in pleasure.

_ Please, please, I’m begging you, please,  _ you thought frantically, hoping Kylo was reading your thoughts.  _ My clit. Pressure on there. Please, I have to cum, let me cum, holy fuck please. _ Just like that, it happened, the pressure was being applied on your clit, and you felt it, you could feel it coming, and you prepared yourself for your orgasm to consume you. Just at the last moment, the critical time, the pressure in your pussy and most importantly, on your clit stopped. It was gone, and you were left there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, held to the brink and cruelly denied your orgasm.

“No, you moaned, delirious. You tried to move your hands into your pants, at this point in time not even fucking caring, but your hands were stuck at your side. Your clit pulsed, and your body was still tense. Holy shit, what the  _ fuck?! _

“Petty Office Thanisson, you have half an hour to go...clean yourself up to look more presentable, then you are to report to my quarters,” Kylo commanded. He turned to you.

_ My room. Now,  _ he said in your mind, Suddenly, without controlling yourself, you stood up, and you were following him, your hands still stuck to your side. You realised he was using the Force to control you, so that you couldn’t give yourself the release you so craved.

You didn’t want to think what he had planned, but one thing you knew for sure was that the misadventures that would occur tonight would be some to be remembered.


	15. Wild Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit...this chapter was an absolute fucking MONSTER to write. I had so much fun with it though, and I really do hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I especially dedicate this filth to The Jedi Slayer and Knights Of Organa, both on tumblr. They are some of my best homies, the worst (or best, depending on your perspective) enablers are are so deep in the trashpit that I aspire to reach their level.
> 
> Okay, you thirsty savages. Have some porn. I love you.

“Get your boots off and sit on the bed.”

Your body worked mechanically, lifting your leg onto the edge of the coffee table in the lobby of Kylo’s room and removing your boot, before lifting your other leg and doing the same. You removed your uniform jacket as well, a thought Kylo allowed you to act on, before you turned to his massive bed, climbing on it  and sitting cross-legged just at the edge of the pillows, your hands on your ankles. 

Someone walking would never have known that Kylo was using the Force to keep you there, so you sat, deceptively comfortable, in standard First Order Pilot uniform: a black cotton shirt with the captain insignia on your shoulders and the lining of your breast pocket and black khaki pants, slightly fitting.

Kylo, on the other hand had removed his armour, his robes and his boots, and was sitting in his little lobby in his sleeveless black shirt, wraps and gloves still covering his hands, one leather clad leg draped over the arm-rest of his chair, the other one resting on the coffee table. He was seated at an angle, his head resting on the left top of the corner of the chair, one arm on his stomach and the other draped casually over the back-rest, hanging loosely. He seemed so at ease, so comfortable, so  _ handsome,  _ but you knew better. He was most likely scheming.

You tried opening your mouth to ask him what was happening, why he had so cruelly denied you your orgasm before, but he still had it shut, so you glared in his general direction, hoping he’d feel it and answer your thoughts.

He didn’t, or maybe he did and he was just ignoring you. Either way he was being a  colossal douche and it was time for a change in strategy. Ignoring your still, though slightly less throbbing clit, you projected your thoughts towards him. 

_ What is the big deal? What the fuck is happening? You’ve barely talked to me since we came back from Starkiller Base, and now you just come out of nowhere, fuck me with the Force,  _ deny my orgasm,  _  and now we just chilling as if this is all self-explanatory? _

For a moment he never responded, verbally or via his body language. You were already thinking of all the expletives you’d throw his way, before he slowly sat back up straight, his hair falling in front of his eyes and he chuckled, the sound, low, dark,  _ promising.  _

You hated how your body reacted, slightly shuddering at the sound, at the  _ prospect  _ of what was going to happen in the near future.

“We’re waiting for Petty Officer Thanisson before we begin,” he replied, voice neutral despite his earlier chuckle, him keeping you on the bed, despite everything around you that informed you that there was absolutely  _ nothing _ going on that was neutral.

You narrowed your eyes, swallowing your arousal.

_ Then what happens when he gets here? Why do you want here in the first place? WHY WILL YOU NOT LET ME TALK GODDAMIT?! _

He reclined to his previous lazy position, now slowly removing the wraps from his arms. You bit your tongue as you saw them become more visible, muscle moving under smooth, pale skin. He still kept the gloves on. You liked the contrast between the jet black leather and the paleness of his skin. You directed your glare back at him in an effort to redirect your thoughts from your rapidly building lust.

“Has Thanisson been harassing you?” he asked you quietly, abruptly changing the topic.

Your anger melted in confusion, making you suddenly sit up straight, your brows shooting up. Kylo stood up and started walking towards you. You eyed him, not exactly apprehensively or suspiciously, you were just confused.

_ I, well, not really harassing per se. He’s just been a bit of a nuisance. _

He bent one leg and used it to kneel on the bed, the other still on the ground. He opened the drawer on one of his bedside drawers and pulled out an afro comb, grabbing your hips and turning you around and pulling you towards him so that he could make your usual large sleeping plats on your hair, your back to his chest.

_ Why do you ask? _

“I was going through your file and I saw you reported him in the past for disrespectful behaviour where he kept propositioning you despite your consistent rejection. He’s obviously sexually attracted to you, no doubt just wanting to fuck you to validate himself, if his antics on your desk just this evening are any indication. We can’t really have that, now can we?”

Something about his tone made you freeze in place as he expertly did your plats, the sound of your hair against his gloves seeming to be the only thing in your ears at the time. You compressed your thoughts, keeping them to yourself, thinking about how you’d project the necessary thoughts to him.

“What do you intend to do to him?” you asked, slightly shocked at hearing your own voice. You weren’t expecting him to allow you to talk so soon.

He had finished your plats, and he kept the comb back into the drawer, turning you back to your prior position and going back to drape himself over the chair he was seated on. It was at this point you noticed there was a chair facing you, about three or four strides from the bed. Your heart sunk into your stomach. It didn’t take you long to figure out what would be going on.

You risked a glance at Kylo and you saw he was looking right at you, salacious smirk on his face. You swallowed thickly.

“You’re smart. It’s a good trait to have,” he noted, before stretching his gloved hand towards his door, opening it to find Thanisson standing at attention, looking a little nervous. He walked in, probably expecting something a little disastrous, but finding you sitting on Kylo’s bed, looking innocent enough and Kylo himself lazily draped over a large chair.

“Welcome, Petty Office Thanisson. Would you like something to drink?” Kylo sounded deceptively  _ friendly,  _ and as much you didn’t like him you couldn’t blame Thanisson for being as skeptical as he was. Nonetheless, he shook his head no, his confused gaze going between you and Kylo.

“Have a seat please. Make yourself comfortable. It’s going to be a long evening for you, I’m afraid.”

Oh boy. This was happening. This was actually happening. Kylo was seriously doing this. He was going to fuck you and have Thanisson watch. You shifted in your spot uncomfortably, trying to get your arousal in order. Just at that moment, you also realised that Kylo was not controlling your body with the Force anymore.

Thanisson moved to take a seat in the chair in front of you. You noticed he was deliberately refusing to look you in the eye. Kylo was standing behind him, and he removed his sleeveless shirt, exposing his glorious body to you. You tried to look away, you really did, but you could not deny your thirst. Kylo Ren was an extremely sexy man, and you promised yourself to always ogle him when you had the chance, particularly after the very first night he slept with you. He removed his leather pants, and you gasped loudly upon seeing that he had nothing under them. He was naked, save for his gloves.

“Strip,” he called out to you, before he smirked diabolically. “Before I come there and do it for you.”

You glanced at Thanisson, who was  _ still  _ unable to look at you and there was suddenly a flood of red on his face and neck. You also noticed the not so subtle bulge in his pants. You looked up at Kylo, wanting to try and talk him out of this, but he was stalking towards you, looking like a predator. Even butt fucking naked he still held his authority, he seemed so sure of himself, not in the  _ least  _ embarrassed, extremely confident in his nudity. It’s like he was walking in the corridors of the  _ Finaliser  _ on the way to the bridge.

You decided things would go much more smoothly if you just removed your clothes, so with trembling fingers you begun stripping, starting with your shirt, then your pants then your underwear, gulping in the process and asking Black Jesus for strength because only the stars knew just how wild this night was going to be.

You’d just taken off your bra and you were kneeling, preparing to take off your panties, feeling the heat radiating off your face in embarrassment, when Kylo reached behind you, gently removing your hands from the band and slowly taking them off himself. You shuddered slightly in reaction, having somewhat of an idea what he was going to do with them but not believe the sheer  _ gall. _

“I’ll need those, Cassidy, and your shirt,” he murmured, picking your shirt from the foot of his bed. He walked towards Thanisson, whose skin on his face at this point was looking like it was about to melt off, and leant down behind him to tie his hands to the chair. He then turned to walk in front of him, lifting his chin up to see his face.

“Look at me,” he said softly, and from the angle that Kylo was standing, you could see Thanisson’s brown eyes hesitantly look up quickly so that he doesn’t have to stare at his Commander’s nude form, licking his lips in his nerves. “You have been an annoyance to the Captain for a very long time Thanisson. She has told you time and time again that she wants absolutely nothing to do with you outside a strictly professional setting, but you just have to be one of those misogynistic little shits that will never listen to a woman unless a man steps in, isn’t it?”

Thanisson opened his mouth to say something, but all he managed was a slight whimper.

“Unfortunately, General Hux will be most displeased with me if I run you through with my lightsabre, and, no doubt, so will the Supreme Leader. What I’m going to do is to  _ show  _ you, very vividly, Thanisson, that Cassidy is  _ mine  _ and that she is far above and beyond your league. I’m going to step in, so to speak, and I ask you not to listen to me as your commander, but as a man staking his claim on his woman.”

You saw his adam’s apple bob up and down in his throat as he swallowed, still looking at Kylo. Kylo, in turn, took the opportunity to gag him with your panties, no doubt relishing in the varying looks on his face, which went from surprise to humiliation to arousal back to surprise.

You shouldn’t have been shocked yourself, but you were. Your mind literally went blank as you sat there, staring like a dumbass, Thanisson quite literally strapped down to a chair in front of you, gagged by underwear you’d worn just moments ago, and a very naked Kylo Ren walking towards you, all sorts of devilish mischief alight in those rich, brown eyes of his.

Indeed, it was going to be a long night. And to think that you actually had work to do the next day. You really wouldn’t be in the mood of being kink-shamed by General Hux again.

Kylo slid behind you, pulling you in between his legs, your back flush against his broad chest, wrapping an arm around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder. You gasped, clutching at his arms around you, as his hands slid down your body in between your legs, to slip his gloved fingers in between your wet, swollen folds.

“Open up your legs for me,” he murmured, and you did. Your legs spread wide for him, and you moaned when he slipped a finger inside of you, the friction of the gloves increasing the sensation. You opened an eye and in front of you you saw Thanisson’s gaze, half-lidded and glazed over with lust. Kylo slipped a second finger to join the first, slowly pushing in and out of you, simultaneously grinding his hips ups into you, his rapidly thickening cock grinding against your bare bum.

“Ah,” you managed, wiggling on his lap, trying to move in rhythm with his hand, the rough leather grinding against the hood of your clit. At the same time he placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on your neck, his thumb finding your clit and applying pressure to it with his fingers moving inside you.

“Tonight I’m going to fuck you sore. Every single orifice in this gorgeous body of yours will be dripping with my seed by the time I’ll be done with you. You will be covered by my entire being, because obviously it’s not quite clear yet that you belong to  _ me.  _ All of you belongs to me: your body, your soul, your mind, your moans, your screams, your cum;  _ all of you belongs to me. _ ”

He was loud enough not to overwhelm you, but he made sure Thanisson was able to hear every single, filthy word he said to you. Thanisson emitted some kind of sound, garbled by your panties and he fidgeted, his erection pretty blatant by now. Kylo’s fingers were still pumping in and out of you, and your orgasm was building up again, picking up where it left off last. Your body was reacting instinctively, grinding hard against his gloved palm, desperately seeking the release he had denied you before.

“Fuck,” you whined, your body tensing, preparing you finally for the burst of pleasure that was going to hit you. However, for the second time, at the very last second, Kylo ruthlessly yanked his fingers out of you, and with that the pressure applied on your clit with his thumb. You growled, deciding that he’d not deny you again and that you were going to bring yourself to completion. However, you were unable to move your arms, they were stuck on your sides. You thrashed, trying to get your limbs to move, but Kylo was being unfair again and using the Force to restrain you.

Aggression wouldn’t get you what you wanted, so feeling the sting to your pride, you resorted to pleading. “Kylo please. Let me cum. I’m actually literally begging you for this. I have to. I  _ need  _ to. I’ll do anything. Just let meee,” you ended with a sob, biting your lip to try to get your mind to stop thinking about your throbbing clit, your second denied orgasm in less than an hour.

Kylo at this point standing in front of you, his gloved hand still slick with your fluids, both you and his side profiles facing Thanisson, regarded you silently, the left part of his full mouth curled up slightly in a cruel, lopsided smile. He tilted his head slightly to the left before addressing you.

“I thought I told you I’m filling every single orifice of yours with my seed tonight. To do that I have to cum, and for me to cum  _ you  _ have to cum. I’m just getting started with you,  _ darling _ .”

You really needed to sit down and have a talk with yourself, because the way your body just  _ shuddered  _ in pure pleasure when he called you a term of endearment sarcastically really wasn’t helping on the needing to be low-key with your lust for this man end of things.

You closed your mouth and looked down in mortification. Well, if he put it that way…

He began stroking his dick, which was already half hard what with all the grinding both of you were doing. You fidgeted, before he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your head up to look at him, still stroking himself. You noticed that he didn’t have his gloves on anymore. It was difficult from your current angle, but you looked around, before you found them placed on one of his bedside drawers.

He squeezed your chin, making sure your attention was back to him. You turned your gaze back to him, and he was looking down at you, eyes half-lidded.

“Open,” he ordered, as he maneuvered his cock towards your lips. “Suck me off. No hands.”

Before you could clarify what he meant, he’d already placed his dick in your mouth. It was slightly heavy on your tongue, but he was able to slide it all into your mouth, right to the back of your throat. He was  _ massive,  _ but you managed to hollow your cheeks and relax your throat, so that you could take as much of him as you could. He grabbed your hair, holding you still as he roughly thrust his hips forward, throwing his head back, his hair flowing back with the movement. He had closed his eyes, full lips slightly parted. He let out a groan, low and deep when you ran your tongue over the vein under his cock.

He pulled himself out, and you felt a twisted kind of arousal, seeing your saliva coating his dick, and simultaneously pulled your head toward him and pushed himself down your throat, effectively fucking your throat.

“Ugh,” he grunted, before you felt him twitch on your tongue,then felt his seed flowing down your throat. You swallowed around him, in an effort to elongate his orgasm. His whole body shuddered at the action, as he slowly pulled his dick out of your mouth with, a thin line of a mixture of his seed and your saliva separating. You spared a glance at Thanisson, and you noticed he was fidgeting, and the area around his crotch had developed a wet patch. Had he cum in his pants at the sight of you sucking Kylo off?

“Not yet. He’s just leaked out,” Kylo responded, turning you around to face the wall. “On your hands and knees,” he said, kneeling on the bed behind you. You did as you were told, and then you felt Kylo’s hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. He was still rock hard, despite his most recent orgasm.

“Thanisson,” he said, voice low, husky. Thanisson snapped back to attention at the mention of his name. He looked at Kylo, eyes pleading, no doubt for release. “Watch, and if you behave I’ll be sympathetic enough to grant you release.”

His face fell, and he looked like he’d been told he was being transferred away from the  _ Finaliser.  _ Even then, he still stared, swallowing and staring at seeing you bent in front of his Commander, about to be thoroughly fucked from the back. 

It amazed you that you were still wet despite two denied orgasms and sucking Kylo off. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame yourself. This was a man who could get you off by not showing any amount of skin whatsoever and holding a conversation, so it really shouldn’t have surprised you that him being naked in front of you for more than a second was enough to get you dripping.

Generally, thirst helped along, so there was that as well.

He didn’t even bother with foreplay. For a moment you’d never be ready for but was expecting, he simply pulled you back into him, impaling you with his cock in one smooth, hard thrust. Your cry of pleasure contrasted sharply with his growl as he stilled for a moment, whether to give time for your walls to stretch and clench around him or give him time to get accustomed to being inside you, you weren’t very sure. What you knew, however, was that he slowly pulled out of you, then slammed right back into you with double the force. Your orgasm was almost immediate, hitting you like an electric train. You screamed out in a combination of pleasure and shock, not expecting  _ at all  _ to cum with such an intensity. “There it is,” he snarled. “The orgasm you have been begging for. Do you  _ love  _ t, you fucking, filthy  _ slut _ ?” 

That,  however, didn’t stop Kylo, though. He set a rhythm, hard, fast, rough and brutal. There was something so animalistic, so  _ primal  _ in the way he pounded into you relentlessly. He continued, not slowing down, despite his rough panting behind you, despite your sweat slicked bodies sliding against each other, your almost painful grip on his sheets, clenching your teeth, bracing yourself for the next orgasm that you knew was coming,  going by the tight coiling of your body. Your fluids were literally flowing down your thighs, but before you could hold that thought, another couple of rough thrusts and you came again, your second orgasm just as intense as the first, but this time you were ready for it. For the second time that night you came with a loud sob of Kylo’s name, trembling and shuddering around him. He was not far behind, leaning on top of you, covering you with his form and groaning, long and low as he came, spilling his seed inside you, so much so that despite being buried balls deep in your cunt his cum still managed to leak out, flowing with your fluids down your legs. his hips jerking and twitching as he went through his own second orgasm of the night.

Your arms and knees were shaking, and you weren’t sure you could take anymore. You were panting, spent, hella sore, exhausted and  _ thoroughly  _ fucked. You didn’t even have the strength to look at Thanisson. You were to exhausted to even pretend to give a fuck about him. Kylo however, wrapped a powerful arm around you and pulled you up with him, so you were both kneeling on the bed,  holding you against his sweaty body.

“Oh no, sweetheart, we’re not done yet,” he purred in your ear, capturing your earlobe in his mouth.

You opened your mouth, but the words couldn’t come out. You tried shaking your head, but even that in itself was a real struggle. You tried the whole speech thing again. 

“Oh God...Kylo, please, break, tired, spent, sore, can’t.”

You winced at your voice, all hoarse from screaming. You were even unable to construct a grammatically correct sentence, simply relying on phrases.

Naturally, Kylo wasn’t going to listen to you. “Every. Single. Orifice,” he whispered in your ear, sounding diabolical. What the  _ fuck  _ was his stamina?! For God’s bloody sake, you were a TIE Fighter pilot, and you flew in outer space for a living. That alone was enough to knock out any ordinary mortal, which was why the training for it was so thorough and time consuming. You need to build both the mental and physical durability to deal with that kind of pressure for long periods of time. You knew you could take a thorough beating, but it seemed Kylo Ren was just an entirely different beast altogether.

He stretched out his hand, pulling his lightsabre towards him. He flipped it around, so the vents were facing downward. You swallowed. You weren’t sure if your cunt would take anymore. 

“It can, baby, and it will. Spread open you legs one more time for me,” he told you, this time coaxing you. Completely entranced by his scent, his lips on your neck, kissing and nicking and biting, his entire  _ being  _ around you, your body obeyed his order, and your legs opened up for him.

“Relax,” he purred in your ear, as you felt his thumb in your folds again. You whimpered as you felt him push it up into you. Despite what seemed like sharp edges, it was actually quite smooth, and you doubted you’d get any cuts up there, which would be extremely awkward to explain to the medics.

Slowly, you stretched around it, your cunt clenching around it, just like it did his cock. “Oh,” you muttered, and he stopped.

“You’re phenomenal,” he whispered in your ear, as his hands moved gently up and down your sides, his mouth peppering kisses on your shoulder. “Look at you, taking my weapon, about to take my cock again. I doubt I’ve ever had any other woman or man like this. That other tramp over there has ejaculated so much in his pants I think we’ll need a fucking bucket to wring his semen out of them.”

You ugly-laughed at that. For a second you’d forgotten how, well, juvenile Kylo could be.

As you were busy being distracted, you felt him slip two fingers, wet with his saliva between the cleft of your bum. You gasped, when you felt his fingers slide up your booty.  “You like that? That feel good?” he asked gently in your ear. Speech had managed to escape you again, and your tongue had decided it was going to be one with the roof of your mouth, so instead you nodded frantically, because dear Lord it felt  _ good _ .

He scissored his fingers inside you, stretching you for him for a few more seconds, before pulling his fingers out. “This will hurt a tiny bit at first, but I promise to try and make it as painless for you as I can,” he murmured in your ears, his thumbs massaging your hips gently. “I just want you to relax for me, okay?”

You nodded, swallowing half in excitement and half in nerves. Suddenly he paused.

“I forgot. Can you please pass me the lube? It’s in that bedside. The peach one. It smells nice, and when we’re done I can give it to your colleague over there. He probably needs it more than me at this point, if he doesn’t dehydrate himself by tomorrow at the rate he’s ejaculating in his pants.”

You ugly-laughed again, as you leaned forward, the motion awkward with a lightsaber up your fucking vagina, and opened the bedside and passed him the lube. He smeared it on his hand, stroking his cock with some of it and using the rest to line your booty. He held you close to him again, before maneuvering himself at your bum. He was already hard  _ again,  _ and you bit your lower lip to prepare yourself, clenching around his saber, your fluids flowing down the hilt. 

Slowly, he slid in, inch by inch, until he’d filled you to the hilt. “Holy fuck you’re  _ tight.  _ You feel so good, so,  _ so  _ fucking good,” he gasped in your shoulder as he slowly pulled out again, before slipping back in, moaning so low it might as well have been a growl. The sound was so  _ lewd,  _ you had never heard kylo sound like that. His lips on your neck were trembling, and so were his thighs. Just how overwhelmed with pleasure was he?

“I’d forgotten how much I loved this,” he murdered, a very slight shake in his voice as he ever so gently thrust in and out of you. Slowly, the sting he mentioned was gone, and with the combination of his lightsaber in your cunt and his cock in your bum, the pleasure begun. White spots clouded your vision as you threw your head back on one of Kylo’s broad shoulders, gasping. You felt lightheaded, so affected by the pleasure, that it took a minute to realise that you were soon going to cum. You were clenching on his weapon, too doped up in pleasure to communicate the release you knew was soon to be given to you. Kylo’s deep, lazy thrusts weren’t helping, but he could tell by your body language. He slipped his hand in front of you, circling your clit in lazy twists as well, simultaneously with his thrusts.

“Kylo,” you managed, moving with him, feeling the orgasm coming, the pressure he applied on your clit increasing.

“Yes, lose yourself around me,” he growled in your ear, and with final thrust you choked, too exhausted to scream as you came around his lightsaber hilt, gasping and panting the only actions your exhausted body could manage. Kylo followed soon after, for the third time that night spilling his seed up your bum, and for the first time in a long time you heard something of a groan coming from Thanisson, but you were too tired to care.

Kylo gently pulled his weapon out of your cunt, before pulling his cock out of your bum, and with it a great majority of his seed. You could barely keep your eyes open, and the last thing you saw was kylo’s large hand in front of you, before darkness took over.

  
  



	16. A challenger appears

Was your body even  _ functional, _ you thought, as you stretched your legs to crack them, get circulation back to working as normal. They were however interrupted with a much larger, much more  _ muscular  _ thighs in their wake. You opened your eyes to find yourself assaulted with a pale, broad, muscular chest, which, going by last night’s activities, most likely belonged to Kylo.

In response to your movement, he shifted slightly himself, tightening his arms around you and pulling you closer to his body. In return, you squeaked, before slightly blushing and wrapping your own arms around his broad shoulders. You winced at the soreness around your pelvic area. It had been an insane night last night, if anything.

You suddenly begun internally panicking, remembering you had to send to General Hux the list of pilots that would be going out scouting to the Naboo system. As much the feel of Kylo’s body was glorious and you would have loved to stay in his bed all day and bask in his heat, you still had work to do.

_ You already completed it yesterday, remember?  _ Kylo interrupted your frantic thoughts.  _ We did them with you when Thanisson was there before we moved on back in here. Stay a while more. You don’t have any immediate obligations. _

You begun calming down when you realised he was right, and you relaxed more in his arms. Come to think about it you were still slightly physically and mentally fatigued from last night, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to sleep in. You hadn’t slept in in years. You doubted your immediate superior would have a problem with that because you were currently draped in his arms, in his bed, still covered in his cum.

You wondered what happened to Thanisson. 

_ I sent him back to his quarters after I put you to bed. Hopefully he’ll do some introspection and come to the conclusion that you want absolutely nothing to do with him and he’ll leave you alone. If not I’ll just push in your paper work for harassment and that will force Hux to transfer him. _

You breathed out slowly, a slow smile on your face before you snuggled back into Kylo. A couple of hours of more sleep shouldn’t be too bad.

…

Pandemonium wouldn’t be the word used to describe the bridge and your workstation when you finally got out of Kylo’s quarters at about midday. In fact, calling this...whatever it was that was going on  _ anarchy _ would be a great injustice to the word itself. Finding your way to the bridge, to find  _ someone  _ to tell you what was happening was in itself an issue. You didn’t want to go to the bridge, because as much as you tried to hide it, there was a slight wobble in your walk, and down here you were a little higher up in the hierarchy for people not to dare ask. The bridge on the other hand…

You finally managed to grab on a pilot who literally jumped over an entire mechanical repair station to try and get to the workstation and ask him what in the seven circles of hell was happening.

“Captain,” he panted, slightly panicked. Turns out it was Chris, his brilliant blue eyes shining with slight fear. “Uh...it’s, um, it’s nice to see you.”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s happening? Why is there so much chaos?”

“There’s a rumour going on that the Resistance is planning an all out assault on us,” he said. “It randomly came on all our comms this morning. Nobody knows how they are able to communicate with us. We don’t even know where they are from. When our technicians tried to figure out where the messages were coming from they were blocked, unable to proceed. Nobody of authority was here to organise anything, not General Hux, Commander Ren, you or Captain Phasma, and people panicked I guess.”

You frowned, your brows knitting together so hard that you thought the lines were permanently etched on your forehead. “Okay. Thanks man,” you told him, before letting him go. You sighed internally. You supposed there was no avoiding the bridge now, you thought.

You got to the bridge, significantly calmer than everywhere else and you found everyone of authority there: the General, Kylo and Captain Phasma. Even Colonel Kaplan had made an appearance, which was quite rare, and he raised an eyebrow at your slight hobble. You glared at him, non-verbally telling him not to dare ask you what was wrong, because quite frankly it was none of his business. Captain Phasma coughed, no doubt hiding a suspicious giggle, because she knew  _ exactly _ why you were hobbling.

Your eyes met the sharp, green ones of the General, and you swallowed. Even then, you tried to keep your apprehension from your face. “Your pilots gave me a hard time this morning, Captain, but after showing them your approval and Ren’s here, they managed to finally leave, just on time. Hopefully, they should be able to get the information we require soon,” he said, his voice neutral, but you could hear the undertones of cold steel beneath that statement.

It took a lot more control than it otherwise should not to smirk. You and the General in the recent past had been disagreeing on a lot of things recently, and the fat that you were shagging Kylo didn’t make things any better. In fact, it arguably made things worse. However, you both respected each other because you were goddamn good at your jobs, and you were probably the only person, other than Kylo, that the pilots would ever listen to. General Hux respected your skill, and he knew how valuable you were to his ship and his organisation, but his pride would  _ never  _ allow him to tell you that to your face. He was not a man who was used to subordination, particularly from a crew like the pilots, who he considered very coarse and unruly.

Who ever knew that some black, rag-tag girl with big hair would one day lead the entire air force of one of the most feared organisations today? You certainly didn’t, and neither did many people.

Nonetheless, you graced him with a deep inclination of your head, hopping on your other foot to try and shift your weight. Man, Kylo really did wreck you last night. No more butt stuff for a while. It was difficult enough having a goddam lightsaber dangling out of your cunt, but having that  _ on top of  _ his dick all up in your bum was a lot more overwhelming than you thought. Both of them were nearly as thick as your wrist. You made a mental note to do more pelvic strengthening exercises.

Naturally, General Hux just  _ had  _ to ask. The man’s pettiness rivalled only Kylo’s, you thought, and Kylo was all types of petty. Must have been genetic, honestly, for both of them.

“May I ask what the problem is, Captain Cassidy? You posture seems to be a little... _ off  _ today.”

Phasma actually snorted, the traitor.

“Nothing of consequence, sir,” you responded, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. “I just had a rough night yesterday. I should be fine by tomorrow.”

“Good rough or bad rough?”

You regarded the general, eyes narrowed. He smirked back at you, adjusting his already perfectly fitting gloves, your lack of response answering his question for him. You wondered who was more extra, him of Kylo, as you grit your teeth.

“Do you need a visit to the medbay?”

“No, thank you, sir.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure Ren wouldn’t mind if you took some hours off to go get yourself checked out.”

“Perfectly sure sir. I appreciate you concern though.”

He turned away from you, looking down at the hangar, smirk wiped off his face. You managed a glimpse as well. It seemed that some sort of calm had come to it now. It was silent for some minutes, with all of us standing there looking down at the hangar.

“What are we to do now, General, Commander?” Colonel Kaplan broke the silence.

“We wait,” Kylo said, his synthesised voice sounding quiet. “Let the pilots come back and give their reports. We need to know what and where we’re attacking before we actually attack. From there, we shall plan out next course of action.”

There was something about Kylo’s tone when he spoke. You could hear it through his vocoder. It was foreboding, as he was expecting some form of disaster to happen. You didn’t like the pure, instinctive fear you felt for you pilots that had been sent out there.

Again, it was silent, nobody having anything to say or do. It was obvious that Kylo was right. You had nothing else to do other than wait. Trying to make a move without any information would put you at a great disadvantage and open you to vulnerability.

It was going to be a long wait, however, you thought as you saw the bridge get back to normal. The question was, would the wait be worth it? Who knew.

…

The pilots had been away for a fortnight, and you were on the bridge with the Commander and the General, watching them land in the hangar, waiting for the news that would literally define the future of the First Order as whole.

“General Hux, Commander Ren, Captain Cassidy,” Amelia, the pilot you had assigned as head of the cohort greeted, inclining her head deeply at you all. SHe looked extremely shaken.

“Amelia,” you responded, not liking what you were about to hear going by the look on her face. “What information do you have for us today?”

She swallowed. Oh boy; this wasn’t gonna go well. “We found the fleet, sir. It-it’s on the actual planet of Naboo.” She looked down, fidgeting nervously with her helmet, unaware with how to continue. She looked at you, eyes wide and pleading. You nodded to her to continue.

“They...the Resistance knew. They expected us. They knew we’d figured out where they had hidden the Republic’s fleet on the Naboo system, so they waited for us to come snooping-”

“And they shot at you, killing most of you,” Kylo finished calmly, clenching and unclenching his fist. You closed your eyes tightly, praying to any and all deities that would hear you and the stars for extra measure that he wouldn’t reach for his lightsabre.

Amelia said nothing, only looked on the ground. She looked at you as if to help her plead for her life, but there was nothing you could do for her. She was only doing her job. He lower lip trembled before she managed to purse them. You saw her chest rise and fall as she took a deep breath, trying to control her fear like the true TIE Fighter pilot she was. For that alone you were willing to defend her not being sent to reconditioning.

Contrary to popular belief, TIE Fighter pilots were still human. Yes, they were ruthlessly trained to be killing machines, and went through the painful and traumatising process of reconditioning until they understood that they were nothing but expendable assets of the First Order, that whatever mission they were sent on took absolute priority, even over their own lives, they were still fundamentally human. They still felt basic, instinctive desires: fear, happiness, jealousy, hunger, the need to pee, love, lust and fatigue. No amount of reconditioning can take those away.

That was very obvious right now in front of you, as Amelia stood before you, the General and Kylo to giver her verbal report, a verbal report she knew was not the one her superiors wanted to hear.

“How many of you survived?” General Hux asked.

“Three,” she whispered. The General breathed in loudly through his nose, his nostrils flaring.

“Thank you. Dismissed.”

Poor Amelia almost ran out of there.

“They killed seven pilots, Hux.  _ Seven, _ ” Kylo noted, his voice deceptively calm.

No one else could see, but General Hux’s hands were trembling slightly behind his back.

“Yes Ren. They killed seven of our pilots.”

The tense silence that followed could probably be felt down to the hangar. You noticed that everyone that wasn’t either the General or yourself had moved a healthy distance away from you. You reached forward to the nearest datapad, so that you could go into the system to check out which particular pilots had been lost. Instinctively, you knew you wouldn’t like what you saw, but you just wanted to be sure.

“Call me the pilot that was just here a moment ago,” you said to the administrative office next to you. “Don’t tell her to come here. Tell her to reach me via her datapad.” You noticed that General Hux and Kylo had stopped whatever it was they were doing and had focused their attention to you. It didn’t take long for Amelia to communicate with you.

“Captain,” she said softly, her voice slightly rough, as if she’d been crying.

“Can you please tell me which pilots survived.”

You nearly choked when she did, but you kept your calm. Someone had to in this circumstance. You heard Kylo’s heavy footsteps away from the bridge, and you, as well as everyone else on the bridge knew what was coming. That would be another console, and depending on how bad his mood was, anywhere between an entire room and a few walls being totally annihilated. You swallowed waiting for it.

It didn’t take long, as you all heard the screech of the activation of the lightsabre, followed by its purring low and dangerous like a wild cat that’s been awakened from a deep slumber. Shortly there was a loud howl of pure rage and fury, followed by the sound of hot plasma melting through durasteel walls and consoles. There was also the sound of glass crashing, which meant some screens had been destroyed. From the corner of your eye you could see debris, hot and still glowing red flying out of the room in different directions. You could also see repetitive blinking of bright red before the walls resumed to their ordinary colours. 

Suddenly, just as it had begun, it was quiet again. For a while no one moved, even a hair, before you had a pop in the corridor, then light shattering of glass, as if it had fallen a long distance to the floor, then slight darkness. Following that there was a series of pops, followed by aforementioned very light shattering of glass, then the corridor was completely dark. You audibly gulped, feeling slight dampness on the palms of your hands.

Kylo, in his complete rage, had unleashed the Force on the floor, popping all of the bulbs on the ceiling and rendering the whole corridor into darkness. Still, no one moved, waiting for our orders.

“We lost some very talented pilots,” you managed to the General, when you felt the terrifying aura of thee Force had subsided somewhat. “It must have been a very well planned and well set trap for them, because these are not the sorts of pilots to just fly headfirst into a Resistance stronghold. The pilots that were gunned down are going to be difficult to replace, but I doubt that’s exactly highest on the list of our concerns at the moment.”

The General, for a moment never said anything.

“Ren,” he barked, his voice sharp, as if giving his a verbal slap to the back of his head. He was suddenly pulling rank. “Cease this foolishness at once and let’s go to the Supreme Leader. The Resistance is mobilising for war. We need to receive approval for preparations right this instance.

General Hux turned, in a flurry of heavy material, before you all heard a familiar voice. A cocky, confident voice, a voice that recurred in your nightmares when you were younger. The voice of a man you had wanted to destroy since you learnt the bare fundamentals of a TIE FIghter jet.

“Get ready, First Order. I know you can hear me. We’re coming for you, and this time we’re gonna whoop your ass.”

Your eyes widened in shock, your heart beating at triple rate.

“Captain Cassidy, I swear on my parents’ grave I’m going to get you this time.

_ Poe Dameron,  _ you thought.

However, you were also made of nothing but sheer gall. You grabbed the nearest microphone, making sure the entirety of the  _ Finaliser  _ could hear you.

“Bring it, Dameron,” you snarled, sounding a lot more confident than you felt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I fucking love Poe. He had to make an appearance.
> 
> Also, from now the story is gonna be very plot heavy. Yes, this story does have a plot LOL.
> 
> Anyway, yes. Here you go.


	17. Off to War

Chaos had resumed on the bridge after Dameron had been polite enough to contact you. As the General and Kylo made their way towards Kylo’s personal ship to get to Starkiller Base and liaise with Supreme Leader Snoke, you stayed on the bridge, barking instructions to the pilots and engineers down there, giving instructions to depart for the planet and prepare for war, since you were mobilising for one.

You managed to get off to take a breather, and you took the opportunity to glance down at the hangar. Captain Phasma was down there, organising her stormtroopers who would accompany you all to this war that was being waged against the Resistance, flying them down onto Starkiller Base. It seemed everything would be happening in Starkiller Base. You weren’t sure whether or not you were particularly happy about that, but you weren’t in a position to say anything.

When you were sure you had done what you had to do at the bridge, you immediately headed down to your workstation, needing to know which pilots you’d need and where they would need to be assigned. You remembered you were short seven pilots, and you clenched your fists, promising to avenge them in the next battle.

The mood was sombre down at the bridge, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you decided to go to the hangar, so that you could watch General Hux and Kylo take off. You looked around, noticing that Kylo’s pearly white TIE Fighter jet wasn’t there. You called Chief Engineer Peters to enquire where it was, and he confirmed that it was down at Starkiller Base.

You found yourself standing next to Captain Phasma, listening to the General giving last instructions. “I expect both of you with your soldiers on Starkiller Base within the next seventy two hours. Both your combatants must be ready to go into battle at immediate notice. We don’t know when the Resistance will attack, meaning we have to be ready for them at all times. I hope I’m clear on this.”

“Yes, sir,” you and Captain Phasma said in unison. He turned to Colonel Kaplan. 

“You are in charge of the  _ Finaliser  _ for the entire time I will be on Starkiller Base, Colonel. I expect everything here will be running smoothly by the time I get back.”

“Yes, sir.”

He and Kylo both turned around, in a flurry of thick material and heavy robes respectively (why were they always so theatrical about their clothes? Couldn’t they just dress up like normal people?) and boarded Kylo’s shuttle. Everyone moved from the bridge, giving it room to take off.

You watched them leave the ship, knowing that very soon, you would be joining them. You sighed, before walking off to your workstations. It was going to be a long couple of days, and you most definitely weren’t looking forward to them.

…

You were back on your workstation, steaming jug of coffee on your table, going through the final roster of pilots you had managed to assemble that was going to fight. They were stationed on both the  _ Finaliser  _ and Starkiller Base, and you were extremely sure, going by their experiences and skill set that they would be ready to go into battle when called for anytime in the near future. You wanted to have a discussion with Phasma first, find out where she would be placing her troops and which groups would call for air support when before uploading all the necessary information in the system.

When you were one hundred percent sure of your pilots, you clipped your helmet on your hip and went patrolling across the corridors of the massive Star Destroyer, hoping to find the Captain somewhere. You hoped to find her very soon as well, as you were hoping to upload this information by the end of work hours.

After patrolling on the corridors of the spaceship for about half an hour, you finally found Captain Phasma, and you kindly requested some of her time to help you finalise your roster.

“It’s good you brought it up too, because I was intending to come and see you about the exact same thing after I finished this round of my inspections,” she said as she put down her blaster and removed her helmet. She removed her holopad and pulled up her troopers, listed by cohort. Together you went through who would be assigned where and who would be patrolling which parts of the planets and which shifts they will be occupying. So far, you were going on the information that the Resistance would be attacking Starkiller Base, as that was the information that both of you had. You would upload the rosters to the system and inform the General and kylo of the same, then after they would look at them you hoped they’d give you the extra information you needed so that you could make any amendments if you deemed it necessary.

Your biggest worry was time. You weren’t sure if you had enough of it, because you weren’t sure when Dameron and merry band of mechanised flies would attack.

When you were done, you headed back to your workstation to upload the list online. You then sent a holo message to all the pilots who would be engaged in combat to informed them that they should be ready and they they will be told where they would be deployed soon.

You sighed, tired, but satisfied with everything you had managed to accomplish. The only dute you had left to do was to go over to the engineering bay and see if everything was going according to plan, then arrange for the pilots that were going into combat to leave, and also arrange for the security of the  _ Finaliser.  _ You were aware that the Resistance knew that the best forces would be deployed onto the weapon-planet, and ti wouldn’t be unreasonable for some of them to come and attack the  _ Finaliser  _ when it was assumed to be unprotected. In fact, it was reasonable, expected. You knew for a fact that if it were not for D’Qar being an entire planetary system away, you would feel absolutely no scruples or guilt in sending a squadron or two of TIE Fighters to go and attack them. It was just the nature of war: the only thing everyone who is a seasoned warrior during battle thinks about is victory. There really is not time for morality debates, because the moment you hesitate even for a second you die.

You know, first hand, that there’s nothing living, breathing beings fear more than death, a cold, scary unknown, regardless of whether they are human or not. 

Jogging your way to the hangar, you came across chief Engineer Peters, barking instructions to his engineers, who were running around, most likely confused, to double check the twin ion engines, to ensure they were functioning  _ perfectly,  _ because if accidents happen in the battle-field it would be their asses on the line. Somehow despite all the chaos and anarchy, things seemed to be working out. General Hux wouldn’t thrive in such an environment. In fact you thought it was a good idea that he generally kept away from this particular part of the ship. The poor man would have an aneurysm. 

You decided now was not the time to ask questions about the jets, because he was  _ obviously  _ working on them, and going by the look on his face, he looked very frustrated, very clearly having a lot to do in a short time frame. Asking mundane questions really wouldn’t help anyone. Therefore, you decided to observe. You sought yourself a corner where there seemed to be less traffic than normal, and sat and watched. 

Despite the seeming disorder, things seemed to be simultaneously running quite smoothly. You had no idea what the fact was going on, but you could tell there was progress. The First order took in and trained only the nest in all fields, not only combat, and this was indisputable at this point in time. Groups of workers moved from aircraft to aircraft, systematically looking through all aspects of it, calling any pilots that seemed free to ask questions and enquire about stuff such as comfort and to explain any replaced parts and maintenance. It was, really quite inspiring to actually see how things happened on the ground. You wondered whether they noticed you were there and just chose to ignore you. Either way, it was a good thing. If you not being in their way meant that they would have to do things more efficiently, then that was fine with you.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, Chief Engineer Peters approached you. You stood up from the ground, wiping the dust from your flight suit and smiled at him.

“Hey,” you said, cracking your neck and stretching. “Seems to have been a really busy day, huh?”

He fidgeted, half smiling. “Yeah. It’s been insane. I wanted us to have all your jets by the end of today. The last thing I want is for General Hux to call me and yell at me from Starkiller Base, then have Colonel Kaplan come over and snap at me. I don’t work very well under that kind of pressure.”

You nodded, completely understanding.

“They’d probably report me to Commander Ren too and considering I’m under his direct command, I’m sure I’d end up being force-choked or something. That’s just terrifying, and at my age, I don’t think my body can handle that kind of treatment.”

You chose to ignore that particular statement, but then again, you were Kylo’s lover. Just because he wasn’t ready to force choke you on a whim didn’t mean everyone else was spared the same fate. You also remembered, frowning darkly, that being the lover of Commander Kylo Ren absolutely did  _ not  _ give you a free pass to anything. Just like everyone else, you were still an employee of, first and foremost, the First Order, and anything considered a fuck-up on your end, objective or not, would cause your untimely demise. Your meeting with Supreme Leader Snoke reinforced that fact very, very clearly.

“...Captain? Caaaaaptaaaaaaain? Hello?”

You came back to the present to find the Chief Engineer waving his hand in front of your face, looking a little concerned. You must have really spaced out.

“Sorry, Chief Engineer,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “I kinda spaced out there.”

He still eyeballed you. “I could tell.” He turned back to the TIE fighters. “These are all ready for deployment though. I think they should be fine for all the pilots that will be flying them.”

“Thank you,” you said to him, as he and his cohort of engineers moved away from the hangar.

You found yourself grinning stupidly, proud of seeing all these beautiful aircraft, before you decided to head back to the bridge to inform the Colonel that you and your other pilots would be leaving for the planet-weapon the next day.

…

The Colonel did not seem pleased.

“Tomorrow is too soon. Would it not be a better idea to wait until either the Commander or the General called for you?” 

He had his patented grimace on his face, but you noticed his irritation. His hand behind his back were clenched into fists, and were you hallucinating or were they actually slightly trembling?

However, seeing as waiting on the Commander and/or the General to call on you would not bode well for you in both the near and far future, you refused to abide by his... _ suggestion.  _ After all, it wouldn’t be him who would be paraded in front of the Supreme Leader to answer why the defence of the planet was late because it was apparently a good idea to wait to be called on, to  _ not take initiative. _

You contemplated whether or not you should be rude. You sighed internally. 

“My apologies, Colonel. I’m afraid I’m not in a position to dictate measures of urgency to anyone. The Resistance will attack any time, and it’s quite obvious that they’ll attack Starkiller Base first and destroy it before they even think of coming to the  _ Finaliser.  _ However, you who are remaining here will not be left alone. Captain Phasma and myself have left both stormtroopers and TIE Fighter pilots to protect you as we combat. I just thought it would be polite to inform you that we would be leaving before we did.”

Well, thinly veiled shade is something you had perfected into an art form over the years.

He said nothing, probably knowing you were right, and you bet that knowledge alone irritated him far more irrationally than it really should. Inclining your head deeply at him (personal feelings aside, he  _ still  _ was your superior), you took your leave, turning around and heading to your quarters. It was going to be a long day tomorrow. It was going to be a long couple of days, and the number of long days were going to be indefinite. You weren’t looking forward to that.

Alas, as you were on your way to conclude your duties for the day, you bumped into Petty Officer Alexis, the other bane of your existence. You tried to move out of the way, so as not to bump into her, but the way she was walking made that particular action impossible. She snarled at you, as if  _ you were not doing everything you can to avoid her. _  This time, you actually sighed.

“What the fuck?!” She screeched at a very unacceptable volume, considering the time of day it was. “You fucking bumped into me. Are you bloody blind?”

You were truly not in the mood for this, so you allowed all the pettiness you’d held back from the colonel to come out in full force at this moment.

“Of course. I actually deliberately wanted to bump into you, because it’s not like I’ve had a very long day preparing for a war and I just  _ had  _ to find you so that you can screech at me to make my day considerably worse,” you responded drily, raising your eyebrow at her rapidly reddening face.

“When are you leaving?” she hissed.

“Tomorrow, fortunately.”

“Are you gonna die?”

You smiled ruefully. “Honestly, speaking, Alexis, I’d love to, if it means I’ll have to avoid you, your fuck master and a bunch of other people in this organisation, but then I’d miss out on Kylo’s dick, and let me tell you, I doubt there’s anything in the afterlife can make up for Kylo’s dick, so no. I’ll try my hardest not to die, because I got a very important need that only Kylo’s dick can fulfill, in case I haven’t reiterated that enough.”

Her face went from blood red to whipped cream white. In other circumstances, it could have been hilarious, but you currently weren’t in the mood for any hilarity.

“Y-y-you’re sleeping with Commander Ren?!”

Hmmm...maybe you shouldn’t have said that. She was literally the biggest gossip in the First Order. The good thing was that everyone would be too preoccupied with the war to linger on it for too long.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a long day tomorrow, and a lot of long days after that. I’d really love to go sleep for as long as possible.” You passed her, determined to get to your quarters as soon as possible.

“Please tell Thanisson I love him.”

It was a quiet, broken whisper, a contrast of emotions, extreme love and extreme betrayal, and if you still didn’t have your attention on her you wouldn’t have heard. For a moment, you were stunned, not sure what to say or so, but she started walking away.

“I will,” you said, slightly loudly so that she could hear, and you noticed her pace increased.

Fuck war.


	18. Are you going to be my consort?

Starkiller Base was a lot more receptive now than the last time you came round. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that you were terrified soulless into thinking you were facing your demise the last time you were here,  but that was besides the point, really.

Most people of note were here, particularly the ones that were familiar faces on the _Finaliser._ In fact the only person who held authority that wasn’t here was Colonel Kaplan. You were with Captain Phasma, General Hux and Kylo, the latter two looking a lot more restless than they should. 

“Sightings on Resistance Forces?” General Hux asked and administrative personnel, peering at her screen, his generally calm voice sounding normal, but you had been around him long enough to realise when he was on the verge of snapping at someone.

“None, sir,” she responded. “They have to get through the protective shields in order to get to planetary space. I doubt they can achieve that.”

Simultaneously, you and Kylo snorted. The General turned to look at you, his eyes narrowed. “You think they would?” he demanded.

“I  _ know _ they would. It’s the kind of thing Dameron would do, the kind of thing he would plan for. What he lacks in Force sensitivity he more than makes up for in sheer gall and piloting skills.” Kylo said, his vocoded voice sounding a lot darker than it should, ominous. You didn’t like the sound of it.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” You were sensing panic behind that normally collected voice.

“Very much so, yes,” you responded. “The protective shield has a refresher of point five seconds. The only conceivable way of bypassing the way of the shields and getting into our airspace in that timeframe is timing your descent from hyperspace into normal atmospheric by getting out of hyperspace anywhere between one second and point five seconds before getting onto the planet, an action that consumes a great deal of fuel and is a phenomenal test of piloting skills. If you fail to time it correctly, the shift in gravitational force will ensure the aircraft and the pilot are torn to shreds within seconds, vapourised into nothing but dust.”

There was a tense silence after that, as the information sunk in. You saw some admin officers visibly shifting in their seats, obviously shaken.

“How do you know that Dameron and his pilots are ballsy enough to risk such a move, Ren? From the information you and Captain Cassidy have given us, he’s not an idiot.”

“No General,” you said sourly. “Unfortunately for us, he’s not.”

“Then how do you know for sure that he’ll do it?”

“Because,” Kylo said, his fist clenching and unclenching. Even through the garbled voice you could tell he was speaking through clenched teeth. He turned around to walk away, his anger evident in his stride. “I grew up with him.”

The tension stretched even thinner. You even heard someone gulp. A glance at the General from the corner of your eye saw his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed, a physical manifestation of his nerves. Talking about Kylo’s past was forbidden, so sometimes his heritage, his family, his  _ bloodline  _ tended to escape you all, and it was moments like this where we were reminded of that particular fact.

It was a good thing, because you generally had an idea of how the Resistance would act, but it was also a bad thing because you constantly had to be reminded that Commander Kylo Ren’s family most definitely did  _ not  _ originate from the Dark side.

A true double-edged sword.

You contemplated following Kylo, but you decided against it. It really wouldn’t help - or change - anything, so you stayed there, at the control centre.

“Go talk to your pilots, Captain,” the General said, looking beyond you. You turned around, and indeed, there were the pilots, in full uniform, helmets held at their ribs. They saluted at the General, who inclined his head once in acknowledging them. “They look like they have some things they would like to address with you.”

You turned back ahead, to face General Hux, but he was already looking outside the huge window, waiting to see even a hint of an X-Wing. You sighed, before you turned around, grabbing your own helmet and walking towards the pilots.

“Is everything ready?” you asked them, as they turned to follow you towards the hangar, much bigger and roomier than the one on the  _ Finaliser. _

Chris was the one that answered. “Yes. We are ready to depart whenever the order is given, Captain. We just await the sightings of the Resistance, then we’ll immediately go and engage them in combat.”

You nodded once, then stopped when you got to the hangar. You stared up at all the TIE Fighter jets in front of you. They were such beautiful machines, despite the fact that they were used for murder, and scouting places and/or people to murder. You particularly liked the pearl white one that belonged to Kylo next to yours, the sheet grey one, in front of all the other black ones.

However, something in your gut told you that Kylo wouldn’t be joining you in your air battle this time. It was something that had been bothering you for a while, a deep intuition you couldn’t ignore. Normally, that wouldn’t have been too much of a big deal. Throughout your time as a First Order employee, he had joined you in a battle of the skies a grand total of twice. This time, you felt like his presence was important, that you would actually  _ need  _ him there with you and the rest of the pilots, but he wouldn’t be there.

Perhaps he had something more important to attend to on the ground.

“Everyone stay here. Stay near your jets. I don’t know when the Resistance will appear, but it’s not far fetched to believe they’ll appear anytime. I need to go see Commander Ren. If I’m not back by the time you’re required to go and fight, just go. I’ll join you as soon as I can. Clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

It was time to go find Kylo.

…

It took a while.

Well, there was also the fact that you were very rarely in this planet, and you got lost quite a number of times before you conceded and asked someone (a stormtrooper, no less) where the  _ hell  _ Kylo could be, before you were directed towards a couple of other corridors until you finally found him.

Goddammit, it took a while.

You thought the  _ Finaliser  _ was a complex vessel, (which it is), but you never expected Starkiller Base to be this, well, maze like. It was a planet, meaning it had more space to utilise, meaning it didn’t necessarily have to be so convoluted.

He was in an empty room, sitting on a chair, facing a console. His helmet was off, placed on aforementioned console. He was leaning forward, his hair covering his face, elbows on his knees, broad shoulders hunched forward.

“You seem to be particularly troubled today. I don’t think you’re one to shy away from war, death, destruction and anarchy. Why have you decided to lock yourself away in some obscure room far from everything else?” You grabbed a chair, rolling it to where he was and sat next to him. You lifted one of your arms and tentatively run your hands through his hair. He purred in response, lowering his head more so that you could keep doing it. You wished your hair was half as thick and half as voluminous and half as healthy as his was.

“A lot is troubling me today,” he responded, his voice lower than normal. You frowned, your eyebrows knitting together in thought. Your hands massaged his scalp idly. There was something in his tone that spelt disaster.

“A penny for your thoughts then?”

“Do you remember the last time you were here?”

You snorted. How could you forget? It was one of the best times of your life. “Of course I do. It was a really great time, honestly. Would you mind scheduling another meeting? Just wanna say wassup and ask for his blessing before going to war,” you said dryly, plopping your hand on your other cheek dramatically.

If he was irritated with your sass he never showed it. “Since then I have been thinking of what he told you, what he told us. After that, when you returned to my quarters, he called me back to talk to me about you. He reiterated what he told you and what General Hux said: you were a distraction to me. You got in the way of me fulfilling my objective, which was, and still is, finding Skywalker and eliminating him. He sensed  _ sentiment  _ coming from me towards you, and I’m not sure if you’re aware, sentiment is what caused the downfall of my grandfather.”

You remained quiet, letting what he had said sink in and contemplate on the words.

You knew who his grandfather was: the legendary Darth Vader, one of history’s most powerful and terrifying individuals to have ever used the Force. He was previously known as Anakin Skywalker, before falling to the Dark Side. Rumour has it that he redeemed himself, but so far you were sketchy on that information, and, as it turned out, so was everyone you asked.

What you  _ didn’t  _ know, however, was his story. 

“How did sentiment cause his downfall? Didn’t he die fighting against Darth Sidious, his former master?”

“He chose power to protect his wife, power the Jedi could never give him, so he turned to the Dark side instead. In seeking that power, he accidentally murdered the Queen, his love, but her children survived, the twins, my mother and my uncle.”

You still said nothing, choosing to remain quiet, still stroking his hair gently.

“Both refused to acknowledge my ability, and they...deceived me throughout my life, for instance not telling me who my grandfather was. I knew, like everyone else, through a public announcement from the Senate of the Republic, in a bid to discredit my mother, and utterly and completely ruin her political career.”

Well, at least the Senate had succeeded on that front.

“So I killed every single apprentice in my uncle’s academy, and joined the Supreme Leader. Through him I have learnt a lot more than Skywalker could have taught me. I have received the guidance and necessary help that will take me to the path that I was destined to be on from the very beginning, the path that Skywalker and my mother denied me.”

You weren’t sure whether you liked where this particular conversation was going.

You took a deep breath. “May I ask what path this is?”

For a moment it was dead silent.

Kylo didn’t immediately answer. He instead lifted up his head, making you abruptly lean forward as your hand was still tangled in his hair, and he looked right at you, his gaze hard and unwavering. His face was wiped blank of any emotion, even his eyes, normally so expressive, were blank. You could literally almost hear the blood roaring in your ears.

“Ultimate ruler of the galaxy.”

You said nothing, just nodded once and continued stroking his hair.

That information, honestly speaking, should have surprised you. It should have shocked you, and objectively speaking, you should be telling him how wrong it was, how that was an extremely ambitious goal, and how difficult it would be to achieve. There were so many obstacles in the way, so many things he’sd have to do, and probably, so many people he’d have to get rid of on the way.

However, you said or did nothing, and he definitely noticed that.

He lifted his massive hands, taking your wrists in them. You were slightly surprised at that, as you never expected him to do that. He tugged your arms forward slightly, making you stumble in his direction and find yourself conveniently fallen into his lap. He then buried his face in your bust, wrapping strong arms around you and just breathing in your pilot suit. 

For a moment, you just sat there, stunned into inaction. You didn’t know how to react, what to do, what to say, but after a few moments you wrapped your own arms around his shoulders, breathing in the earthly scent of his hair.

_ Are you going to be my consort? _

The proverbial glass shattered in your mind. The question was not asked verbally, he asked it in your head.  **Are you going to be my consort?** That was all your brain could echo.

Thankfully, as you were well aware, Kylo could be a complete gentleman at times.

_ A couple of months ago you came to comfort me in my quarters after a particularly trying meeting with Supreme Leader Snoke. I broke down and cried, after having not done it in very many years, and you promised me that you would stand by me, even in this path of blood and destruction that I’ve chosen to carve for myself. I’m not asking for much Cassidy. All I need is an answer from you. When I conquer the galaxy, will you be my consort? _

On a surface level, it was a very simple question. It could only be answered by either a “yes” or a “no”. However, both of you knew that there were layers and layers more of questions that Kylo was asking you beneath that simple ‘are you going to be my consort’, and to answer yes to that question would effectively answer yes to everything else.

He was right, you did promise to stand by him. You knew Kylo was absolutely garbage when it came to verbally processing and expressing his emotions, so you really wondered if this was his way of telling you he trusted you, a considerable feat when you thought about how tormented he is.

You sighed, thinking about it, considering it. However, you knew yourself. You knew what your answer would be, even before your internal monologues.

_ Yes. _

He held you closer, tighter, and you reciprocated. You shared the moment, before he suddenly stiffened in your embrace, and pushed you off of him, grabbing his helmet and walking out immediately.

You managed to keep your balance after stumbling backwards, ready to yell at him because that was very abrupt and unexpected, before you heard a panicked voice over the speakers.

“Captain Cassidy and all available TIE Fighter pilots, take your positions, General Hux has ordered the dispatch of all squadrons. Resistance jets have been sighted.”

This day was really laying it thick with the bombshells, wasn’t it, though sightings of Resistance jets isn’t exactly what you would call a bombshell as you were expecting to go to war.

You grabbed your helmet, and sprinted out to the hangar. On the way from the windows you saw it, your and the Resistance pilots already engaged in combat.

It seemed like it was time.


	19. Shocks and changes in combat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigh*
> 
> I'm going to be very honest with you guys. I deeply, /deeply/ apologise for this chapter. I feel it is /exceptionally/ substandard, partly because I suck the biggest, dirtiest, filthiest, most useless donkey balls at writing combat, and partly because there was just so much going on that I got confused and didn't really know how to put it all down into something coherent. I edited and deleted this chapter 14 times (yes, I counted) and /still/, I felt like it just wasn't coming together. Eventually I felt I'll just go with the flow and free-write, in a sense, and if it flows in some semblance of sense, I'll upload it, so here we are.
> 
> I will fully understand and fully expect if you thoroughly dislike this chapter, because honestly, I /hate/ it. Again, I am very, very sorry to have to subject you to this bullshit, when you've done nothing but support me throughout this whole piece. Y'all deserve better, honestly.
> 
> I promise, the next chapter will be substantially better. I owe it to you.

You were out of the hangar within minutes. “What is happening? Where are you guys? Where am I needed?” you barked into the comms, trying desperately to reach someone.

“Captain,” Amelia was the first one to respond. Her voice sounded calm, but you knew better. “We’re to the west. It’s where the air fights are at their heaviest. Dameron’s here as well, and he’s probably waiting for you. He’s taken two whole squadrons down. Of course he had support, but he is solely responsible for individually shooting down eight TIE Fighters.”

Well, that not what you wanted to hear when you’d just gotten to the battlefield. As you were thinking of how you were going to maneuver through all this chaos to get to Dameron, you jet begun beeping warnings at you like crazy. Upon looking at your systems information display, you saw there were two X-Wings behind you and one in front of you. None of them were Dameron’s, the infamous Black X-wing starfighter that many a TIE Fighter pilot had seen before their untimely demise.

You grit your teeth, slowly getting irritated. You were ready to face Dameron, ready to shoot him off the skies and space once and for all, yet he’s sent his little assistants to keep you busy as he was off doing God knows what? Wasn’t he supposed to be the bravest and most daring pilot in the Resistance? Why was he being such a fucking coward now?

Well, you mused, debating about whether you should turn to the X-wings following you and attempting to shoot you down or whether you should just go look for Dameron, the Resistance as a whole was made of fucking cowards, so if this bloke was the bravest they had...it really shouldn’t have been too surprising, honestly speaking.

“Amelia,” you asked. “Do they look like they know their way around the planet or are they just flying around aimlessly, trying to get attention on themselves?”

There was silence on the other end, then sudden static, as if she was opening her mouth to answer then she closed it again and breathed out instead. Well, that answered your question.

“Okay then. I’ll just get rid of these pilots following me, then I’ll come for Dameron. Keep those X-wings out of the air.”

You turned around to engage the Resistance pilots and the X-wings that had been attempting to shoot you down for a while, before you felt that nagging feeling returned. It was that same one that had been bothering you when you were looking for Kylo, was it only a couple of hours ago? What was he up to? He was one of the best pilots alive, in your opinion, even better than  _ you,  _ a skill, apparently, he inherited from his grandfather. Rumour had it that his uncle, Luke Skywalker, the last Jedi was also a very good pilot. A force thing perhaps?

You were promptly ripped out of your thoughts when you flew into the dark cloud of smoke that was the result of the explosion of a fighter jet: whether it was of an X wing or a TIE fighter you weren’t sure. You had to abruptly turn, to avoid colliding with another jet.

“Fuck,” you hissed, before getting back to your path, on a dogmatic quest to find Dameron. Where  _ was  _ Kylo? Why did you have such a strong sense of foreboding whenever you thought of him? He was a powerful Force warrior. If there was anyone that could take care of themselves, it was him, so  _ why?  _ Why were you so worried?

You managed to shoot down the second X Wing that came after you. You were fidgeting with your sensors, before Chris suddenly came in on your comms, voice slightly panicked, informing you that Dameron was tailing him.

“I’m not sure I can be able to avoid him for long. He’s determined to shoot at me,” he said, his voice hoarse from his nerves.

“Come to me Chris. I can get him off your tail and engage him in combat. I’m about-” you glanced at the screen in front of you “-North West of you. Find me and I’ll get Dameron off you. You’ll live, Chris. You’re a TIE fighter pilot.”

You  _ hoped  _ he would live. Chris was one of the most competent pilots you currently. In fact, he was the one that you’d nominate to take over from you, without a heartbeat. However, even his skill couldn’t hold a spark to Dameron. Dameron gave  _ you  _ problems.

You increased your speed, to help Chris locate you faster. It took about fifteen or so seconds, before you saw a TIE fighter jet headed right at you, and behind it, a black X wing pilot. Looks like you’d found your man. “Go,” you ordered in your comms, and Chris immediately swerved to the left, forcing Dameron to swerve upwards, and you immediately turning and following him, aiming your blasters at him and beginning to shoot.

You followed each other for a couple of more seconds, him dodging everything you shot at him. You noticed that for the whole time you followed him he was flying away from his colleagues and towards your pilots, and  _ that  _ irritated you. It irritated you a lot more than it should have.

You fidgeted around with your comms to try and connect to him. When you were sure he could at the very least hear you, you confronted him, at least verbally.

“Oi, Dameron,” you growled into your comms.”The fuck you flying to my pilots for, huh? Are yours that incompetent that if we fight within them I just might shoot them because they wouldn’t dodge fast enough?”

For a moment there was no response, and you thought that maybe you hadn’t connected to him. Suddenly, there was static, then that cocky baritone spilled from your speakers, filling your tiny cockpit.

“Just thought I should appreciate your planet, enjoy the scenery of your pilots being blown to fucking smithereens by the Resistance. Maybe then you should reconsider engaging us in war,” he responded.

Oh. Well then. That was fucking  _ rude.  _

You were contemplating turning around, and flying through everyone else to literally confront him face to face, your jet to his because you were that extra, before another larger airship caught your eye, very well hidden in the bushy trees of the forested area of the planet. It was a Corellian YT light freighter model, a very similar one that was described to be used by the legendary Han Solo, husband to Princess Leia Organa,  _ Kylo’s father. _

You smashed your comms button so hard as you put in the units requesting connection to the control centre of Starkiller Base you were slightly surprised it didn’t permanently lodge itself inside your dashboard. “This is Captain Cassidy. There is a Corellian YT model light freighter towards the south of the planet. Can I have a scan and confirmation if it is the legendary  _ Millennium Falcon  _ owned by Han Solo, infamous smuggler and former General of the Galactic Republic.”

“Yes Captain. Please give me a moment,” came the response, almost immediate. Ah, the beauty of rank.

You decided to wait a little, fly around the same area instead of going after Dameron. Your pilots would keep him bus-

Wait, where was Demeron? Your pilots would have reached you by now if he had engaged them in combat, requesting for your help in dealing with him. He had become uncharacteristically quiet.  _ Everything  _ had become uncharacteristically quiet ever since you got distra-

“Captain Cassidy, we have confirmation that the Corellian model fighter you enquired about does, indeed, belong to Han Solo. He is currently on the planet. However, we are not sure where he is, who he is with or whether or not he came alone.”

What was happening here? You did not like what was currently going on.

“Where is Commander Kylo Ren? Direct me to his whereabouts at once,” you ordered, turning around and flying towards the middle of the planet, where the main buildings were.

“Yes Ma’am. The Commander is to Your North. He is currently in what looks like a confrontation with an individual we cannot identify.”

You never even bothered with thanks or even a response, you headed straight to where Kylo was, and the shock that hit you when you saw who he was interacting with nearly made you crash and spiral onto the planet’s surface.

_ Han...Solo. _

In the flesh. This was Kylo’s father. The resemblance was unmistakable, especially the noses.

“Captain!”

You jumped in your seat, nearly hitting your head on the top of your jet. You swerved quickly to your left, and promptly into a cloud of smoke and the burned wreckage of what was formerly an X-wing Starfighter.

“Please focus, Captain. We can’t afford to lose you,” Chris said, almost an order. You managed a lopsided smile in your helmet.

“Thank you, Chris,” you responded quietly, thankful that he yelled at you to get your mind back on track, back on the task at hand.

Speaking of the task at hand, “Where is Dameron? Is he even still on this planet?” in your small adventure of finding the  _ Millennium Falcon,  _ and seeing Kylo’s father, you had failed to notice that the Resistance air fleet was pulling out, and most of their jets had already left the airspace of the planet, including Dameron.

“He seems to have left,” Amelia spoke up. “The Resistance air fleet is thinning. They seem to be completely leaving the planet. No one knows why. They just suddenly turned around and just...started getting out of our air space.” How anti-climactic.

This was not ending here. Something was going to happen, something utterly catastrophic.

“Everyone, back to the hangar.  _ Now. _ Chris, Amelia, take a verbal report to general Hux,” you barked, turning around yourself to go and park your jet. On your way there, you saw several cohorts of stormtroopers walking towards where Kylo was. You swallowed.

_ Kylo please, _ you mentally pleaded, willing the tears that were forming in your eyes away and gripping your control wheel and throttle levers until the leather of your gloves hurt your palms.  _ Be safe. Be careful. I beg you. _

You landed, not even bothering to wait for authorisation or communication. The moment you stopped you switched off your jet, removed your helmet, throwing it on  your chair, grabbed your spare blaster and sprinted right out of the hangar and outside in the cold faster than anyone or anything could stop you.

You felt a feeling of deep melancholy and apprehension in the pit of your stomach. Your instincts were going on overdrive.  _ Something bad was definitely about to happen. _

You ran, faster then you have ever run in your life. You passed the stormtroopers, zooming past them until you got to Captain Phasma. You slowed to her pace and you never even had to utter any words. Apparently the question was written all over your face.

“Keep going forward. He’s there.”

You nodded once, the gratitude very obvious on your features and sprinted forward again. When you got to where Kylo and his father were, shock promptly paralysed you. Your hands loosened slightly on the grip of your blaster, before tightening again, and your whole body begun trembling.

Kylo was before you, lightsabre activated, purring low and menacing. He was clutching his left side, and he was panting heavily, his shoulders heaving up and down. On the snow next to his boots were multiple small droplets of blood,  _ his blood.  _ His hair was wild, stuck to the back of his neck, where he had sweated. His helmet was nowhere in sight.

In front of his was a body, lying face down, the body of his father. The air around you started to seem stifled, and you felt as though you were struggling to breath.

“Don’t,” he growled, sounding like a wounded animal. You almost backed away in fear, but sheer willpower kept you standing in place.

Suddenly, you gasped, your eyes widening. Blonde hair, blue eyes, narrowed, sharp,  _ unforgiving.  _ Heavy brown robes, blue lightsaber.

_ Luke Skywalker.  _

“This is what you have become, Ben. Murdering  _ your own flesh and blood.” _

His voice made you choke. It was deep and laden with  _ guilt  _ and  _ regret.  _

“He hated me,” Kylo hissed. “He  _ hated  _ me for what I was. For being force-sensitive.  _ You all hated me _ . Which is why you tried to change me.”

You had never heard Kylo sound like this. You had seen him angry, but this was pure. This was unadulterated  _ rage.  _ It terrified you. It terrified you to the depths of your core. You had  _ never  _ felt like this in your life. Not even when you were a thirteen year old orphan, in front of the smouldering remains of your parents and their property.

This,  _ this  _ was what true fear was made of. You gulped.

Luke Skywalker said nothing, only lifted his hand, those deep blue eyes looking right at you. You opened your mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Suddenly, behind you, you heard a sound. A grunt. Low, deep.

“Not now. I am talking to my nephew. You can wait.”

“Do it, Kylo Ren. Kill him.  _ Kill them all.” _

You hiccuped. Against your better judgement, even in your utmost terror, you turned around. Then, you screamed.

It was a loud, deafening screech. You never thought your vocal cords were capable of such pitch. In other circumstances, you’d have been impressed. 

These were not other circumstances.

Supreme leader Snoke. In the flesh.

He was ugly.  _ Ugly.  _ He was the most hideous, grotesque, unsightly being you had ever laid your eyes on. He was tall, taller even than Kylo, if only slightly. He was frail, more bones and skin than muscle. He looked exactly like his hologram, only worse. He was hunched over, black robes flowing with the wind. He stretched his hand forward, and you felt a tight pressure around your throat. You immediately lost your voice, and your passages were getting smaller, and you found it harder to breathe. You blaster dropped to the ground as your arms flailed, before reaching at the force on your throat, trying desperately to pry it away, desperate for airflow into your lungs. You were lifted off the ground, and suddenly all concepts of time and space were lost on you.

_ I knew you were a distraction, girl. I knew you came in the way of my plans. You planted poison in his mind. You refused to give him a child, even at the threat of your own life. That is unforgivable. I will give neither him nor you the benefit of the doubt. After I rid you from this world, I will have him impregnate a female of my choosing, someone who will listen to orders. I have a galaxy to conquer, and I need the Skywalker bloodline to achieve it, and  _ you  _ stand in my way. _

The words were echoed in your mind,  _ bellowed _ in a condescending tone. You couldn’t do anything about it, as you felt pain to the magnitude you have never experienced in your life, as a strong ringing bounced about in your mind. You screamed, not sure whether you were doing it physically or solely in your mind. You felt tears flow down your cheeks, the edges of your eyesight turning black, too physically weak to do anything, before suddenly you were collapsed on a crumpled heap on the ground, gripping your throat, coughing and hacking, desperately trying to get oxygen into your lungs.

To your side was Supreme leader Snoke, leaning against Kylo, his lightsaber through his chest. The lightsaber was deactivated, and the Supreme Leader fell backwards, a hole through his chest. 

“You will regret this, Kylo Ren. You will never get-uuuuurrrrrggggghhhhhh-”

You couldn’t look away as Kylo activated his lightsaber in the supreme Leader’s mouth, subsequently silencing him. You looked around you, and Luke Skywalker was gone. The world was going black...


	20. Let the Universal Misadventures COntinue

The air here was incredibly crisp and fresh. Was this what heaven truly was like?

Was heaven even real? What would you refer to the afterlife as? Anyway, this air was really, really,  _ really  _ nice. You could just feel your lungs being purified. Your blood must be feeling pretty fresh too, and gosh, you brain as well must be at it’s peak honestly.

You would have liked your eyes to flutter open prettily, but alas, even the afterlife wouldn’t allow you that privilege. Your eyes, instead, snapped open, and you were assaulted with the brightest lights yet. You snapped them back closed again almost immediately, not appreciating the sting of the lights. Opening your mouth was just a real struggle, your lips so dry it actually took real energy to peel them off each other. You couldn’t even  _ whine  _ at the sudden brightness, your throat all dry and scratchy. You tried lifting your arm to cover your eyes, but it felt heavy and rubbery, as if it was reinforced with lead weights to keep them down.

Well then, this  _ most definitely  _ wasn’t the afterlife, unless you were in hell. After all, you weren’t the most deserving person of nice things when you were alive. But then again, wasn’t hell supposed to be made of fire and brimstone, unbearably hot and uncomfortable? Would you meet Supreme Leader Snoke here?

You tried opening you eyes again, this time slower. The roof was white, the walls were white. There were a variety of machines around you. You were in a bed, lying horizontally on your back, in crisp, clean inexpensive sheets. You heard beeping, and when you finally manage to twist your head to see where the sound came from you found...a medical droid?

Okay, so you weren’t dead, meaning you were not in any kind of afterlife, good or bad. You were, in fact in the med bay, most likely on Starkiller Base. You didn’t know whether that was a good or a bad thing.

You noticed the droid that was there before had disappeared, most likely to tell one of your superiors that had finally decided to join them in the world of the conscious. You sighed, looking at the milk-white roof, not sure what you would say to whomever was supposed to be coming to see you. Your body hurt a bit,  _ especially  _ your throat.

Moments later you saw unmistakable red hair, and then after, you heard metal steps on the ground. Ah, must have been General Hux and Captain Phasma. You mentally prepared yourself for an interrogation. This was not exactly what you were expecting to wake up to, but then again, you  _ were  _ working for the First Order. They were predictably unpredictable.

Both of them appeared on your left, the General, as usual looking smart and pristine, trademark scowl on his face.

“Captain Cassidy,” he noted, looking at you, his voice not as...commanding as it normally was. You inclined your head at him, before you turned to Phasma and did the same. Your gaze moved from the Captain’s helmet to the bedside table next to you, communication with your eyes that you’d like some help with the jug of water.

The General, in a rare show of philanthropy, helped you sit up, as the Captain poured you a glass of water and handed it to you. You drained the glass in one sitting, before placing it on the tray on the bedside next to the jug, then folded your hands on your lap, looking from the General to the Captain.

“What can I do for you today, straight from the realm of unconsciousness?”

Captain Phasma coughed, probably masking a very suspicious laugh. The General’s lip twitched, but he schooled his features back to the indifferent look he was known for, resting bitch face game strong as per usual.

“Can you tell us what happened?” he enquired politely.

You said nothing, swallowing nervously. You knew what he was asking, but you also wanted some elaboration.

“What exactly would you like to know?” you asked in turn, quietly, not wanting to really think about it all too much.

“What happened out there when you first got to Ren.”

Oh boy, so he pretty much wanted you to start from the beginning. This wasn’t the reception you were expecting to wake up to.

“When I got there, his father was facing the snow, face down. He wasn’t moving, he just...lay there, lifelessly. At the time I wasn’t sure whether he was alive or dead. Kylo himself was holding his lightsabre hilt, bending slightly towards his left. On the snow to the right of his boot there was blood. He was definitely injured, most likely by a blaster shot.”

You took a deep breath, before continuing.

“His...his uncle came round, confronting him, condemning him for murdering his father. Kylo snarled back at him, talking about hatred and forced change. Suddenly, he looked at me, and I froze. I was so terrified. I didn’t know what to do or say, or even if I had the capacity of doing or saying anything. There was just so much anger and so much antagonistic feelings between them, and I was scared that if I as much as opened my mouth and breathed wrongly I’d be killed. I was in the presence of two of the most powerful Force combatants alive at the time, I just...I couldn’t-”

You stopped, dropping your gaze and clenching your teeth, trying to get a hold of yourself, willing the tears not to fall. You breathed noisily through your nose, clutching your hands tightly together, trying to stop them from shaking.

General Hux and Captain Phasma didn’t say anything. They just stood there, patiently waiting for you to collect yourself and continue your narrative.

“S-Supreme Leader Snoke suddenly appeared. At first I didn’t notice, but he probably tried to use the Force to do something, but he was most likely stopped or interrupted by Skywalker, who said something along the lines of that was not the time because he was talking to his nephew. Supreme Leader Snoke then commanded Kylo to “kill them all” probably referring to us.”

It was silent for a minute. “Supreme Leader Snoke must have truly despised you.”

For a second, you just stared at the General, absolutely not knowing what to say and also not expecting him to comment in the middle of your narrative. Even Captain Phasma just stared at him. Of course you couldn’t figure out her facial expression because of her helmet, but you were sure she was just as surprised as you.

You regained you cognitive capacity, though. “You really think, General?” you responded drily.

His mouth twitched again, fast and imperceptible, but you noticed it. “My apologies for interrupting. Carry on, please.”

Anyway, where were you? Ah, of course, The best part. You sighed. “At that point the Supreme Leader choked me, lifting me off the ground. I couldn’t do or see anything, and it was single-handedly the worst thing I have ever experienced in my life. That is something I’d never wish on anyone, not even on the people that murdered my parents and destroyed my homeland. As he choked me, he was yelling,  _ screaming  _ in my head. He was really pissed at me, talking about me getting in the way of his ambitions and how I had dared disobey a direct order, even at the expense of my life. He was saying he was going to kill me and then make Kylo forcefully impregante another woman of his choosing, going on about galaxy domination and needing the Skywalker bloodline or some other creepy shit. He was talking about wanting a woman that would follow instructions and not defy him. It was absolutely dreadful.”

It was quiet again for a moment as the information sunk in.

“Suddenly, I was on the ground, choking and gasping for air, and then I managed to look up and I saw the Supreme Leader leaning against Kylo, his lightsaber through him. It felt as though time had stopped. I was extremely shocked, since I wasn’t expecting that course of events.” You looked down.

“No one was expecting that course of events,” you said quietly, remembering seeing the blank look on the Supreme Leader’s eyes, deep in his skull. They seemed to be literally losing their light as you stared at them. You had been exposed to many a terrifying thing throughout your life, but you doubted you’d forget that look for the rest of your days.

“Kylo then deactivated his weapon, pushing the Supreme Leader off his person, and he fell to the ground. Even as he was dying he still managed to have the strength to try and blackmail him. I can’t remember specifics, but I know it had something to do with regret. After that I blacked out, then I woke up in here.”

Again it was silent, both the General and the Captain looking like they were contemplating over what to do next based on the information you had given them.

You opened your mouth, wanting to ask them what had happened next and where Kylo was, if he was okay, but the words failed to leave your mouth, so you closed it. You sat there with them in silence for a while before trying again. This time your mouth and tongue cooperated with you.

“May I please know what happened next? After I went unconscious, I mean.”

Captain Phasma looked at General Hux and he nodded once at her. “I and the stormtroopers were approaching where you were, until we saw your body on the snow and Commander Ren down on one knee, clutching his side. I Immediately told the ‘troopers to stop where they were, and communicated with the main building that we needed the General. I walked slowly towards the Commander, and he was terribly injured: a deep blaster shot wound on his side and a deep wound on his shoulder, looking like it was caused by a lightsabre. The General got to where we were quickly, and the Commander told us that Skywalker had taken Han Solo’s body - he tried to stop him, but he was heavily injured and lost quite a bit of blood from his hip, not to mention Skywalker must have fought him as well - and he had hidden the Supreme Leader’s corpse in the woods.”

“I had a few stormtroopers cremate the body, and sent them back to reconditioning to have their memories wiped. I then had both you and Ren brought here for treatment,” the General added when Phasma had finished her report.

“So only we know what happened out there,” you said quietly, more of a statement of fact than question. You received no response.

Immediately, your mind went on overdrive. Obviously things were now going to change extremely drastically. You were not sure how many people in authority were even aware of Supreme Leader Snoke, and if they were, what would they be told?There was no more Supreme Leader Snoke, meaning the authority shifted to General Hux and Kylo. Where was the First Order going from here?

Speaking of Kylo, where was he?

“Where is...where is he? Where is Kylo? Is he okay?”

“Ren is still unconscious. He suffered a lot of blood loss and heavy injuries. I suggest you rest, as you seem to be better off than he was. I’ll...see to it that you are released soon, and you will be the first person who sees him when he regains consciousness.”

You swallowed your tears. “Thank you, General.” You don’t even know how you managed to get the words out, but there they were.

Without another word, he and Captain Phasma left, leaving you alone with your overwhelming thoughts once more.

…

You were woken up by a medical droid and told to dress up because Commander Kylo Ren was awake and he wanted to see you. You were groggy, and you didn’t even know what time it was or what day it was, but you managed to get yourself out of bed and anyway and make yourself look presentable to go and see Kylo. You were still feeling weak, but that was probably because you had been living off shitty medbay food since you got here.

“General Hux has ordered you to be discharged. I will see to the paperwork as you are meeting with Commander Kylo Ren,” the droid continued, before rolling out of the room to go whatever it was going to do. You finished dressing up and then you stood there stupidly, wondering how the fuck you were going to see Kylo because you had no idea where he was.

Right on cue, a stormtrooper appeared, requesting you to follow her, as she was going to take you to the Commander’s quarters. You wanted to tell her that it was fine, then you remembered that this was Starkiller Base and not the  _ Finaliser,  _ and you weren’t quite sure where his quarters were, so you nodded, allowing her to lead you there.

You arrived in the room to find him in bed, looking pale, almost as pale as the General. Said General and Captain Phasma were in there with him as well.

“You look...a lot better than I expected,” you said in way of greeting.

He smirked slightly at you. “I’ve been worse,” he responded, voice still slightly hoarse. He looked at you up and down, assessing you. “You look a lot better than I expected.

“You shrugged. “I wasn’t stabbed with a variety of glowy weapons, so I guess that explains why.”

He snorted at that, making you, in turn, smile slightly. You moved towards the bed, tentatively sitting next to him. You raised your hand towards his face and stroked his cheek gently before cupping it. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. You felt some quiet shuffling behind you, and from the corner of your eye you saw General Hux and Captain Phasma leaving the room.

“What now?” you asked, quietly, removing some stray strands of hair from his face, running your hands over his moles and birthmarks.

“We continue from where we left off. Hux and I are the leaders now, and we need to...put aside our differences much more often if we are to continue with our quest of destroying the Resistance and continuing with galaxy domination.”

He grabbed your hand still on his face, catching and keeping your gaze. Even when sick and pale, his look still pierced you, right to the depths of your soul. “Will you still fight by my side? Are you still agreeing to be my consort?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. He scoffed.

“Well, you can read my mind. What can you see in there?”

“Snarky sarcasm and exasperation, mostly.”

“Well there you have it.”

He rolled his eyes at you, making you shake your head at his antics.

Suddenly, you felt sombre again. There was something you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how to.

“Just ask it, Be blunt. Get it out.”

Ah. So he  _ had  _ seen it. “Why did you kill him? Didn’t you have training to complete under him?”

“He threatened you. He threatened to kill you,” he responded simply, lowering your hand from his face and tangling it in his larger hand. “I couldn’t have him kill you. You’re my consort. If it meant getting rid of him to ensure your safety, then so be it. My training I can do on my own.”

“What about General Hux?”

“What about him?”

“He didn’t seem to approve. Of us, I mean.”

“And?”

You opened your mouth to say something, but then it hit you: Kylo didn’t care. He didn’t care of the General’s opinion of him or his personal life. That thought made you blush.

“Listen, little one, Hux knows,  _ very well  _ that you’re not going to get into the way of our plans. He knows your loyalty is tied to both the organisation and my cock -” you blushed, looking away - “and if anyone tried to harm you, they’d end up like Snoke. He knows that you will be by my side when I rule everyone. Whether he likes it or not is irrelevant. He just has to live with it.”

“What about Skywalker?”

“We’ll deal with him when the time comes. For now, we continue with our goals."

Well, you saw no issues with that, quite frankly. Let the universal misadventures continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn.
> 
> Words cannot express how proud I am of myself and this work. I have learnt and lived and grown and made some amazing friends and interacted with amazing people throughout this coherent garbage of mine, and for that I am thoroughly grateful.
> 
> It comes to an end here, folks. Thank you so very much for all the readers, commenters kudosers, bookmarkers, lurkers and everyone else that has interacted with this story in any way, shape or form. I hope to see y'all again in whatever projects I come up with in the future.
> 
> Asanteni sana.


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